


The Once and Future King

by JessicaMDawn



Series: The Sword in the Stone [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: All relationships are, Arthurian legend - Freeform, But in a different way, Canonical Character Death, Character Death and Violence occur in later chapters, Court Sorcerer Merlin, Dragons, Festival, Gen, Harpies, Implied Relationships, Magic, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Phoenix - Freeform, Post-Magic Reveal, Slow Burn, Sorcerers, The Cup of Life, War, magic knights, round table, tournament
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-03-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:44:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 123,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessicaMDawn/pseuds/JessicaMDawn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "The Sword in the Stone". Arthur knows of Merlin's magic, but their destiny has only begun. The journey to uniting the lands of Albion is long and filled with danger. Presented in 14 parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Worst Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> MERRY (EARLY) CHRISTMAS!
> 
> I've done it. I kept saying 'No. No. No. Definitely not. I won't do it. I don't care how many people wanted a sequel. I gave them deleted scenes.' And, in October 2011, literally right after Merlin season 4 aired, I wrote Grief and then I read The Sword in the Stone and the reviews to it and I went 'Oh Dammit,' let my head hit my desk, and started writing. The writing has been in no way continuous. I kept leaving this for other things, for months at a time. But here it is.
> 
> A big thank you to DLanaDHZ for being a fantastic beta. Also shout outs to PeanutMeg and LunarFlare14 for further edits before this was posted.
> 
> I realized that in The Sword in the Stone, I used details revealed up into 3x07. I also know that everyone loves Gwaine…So, for the purposes of this fic, I'm saying that all the stuff with Gwaine happened previous to The Sword in the Stone. So…everything up until 3x08 happened, except Arthur's solo mission in 3x08 wasn't related to the Fisher King and was something else…like…I don't know, he went and retrieved the Crown of Nine Diamonds or something, and it was in the Perilous Lands, or whatever. So Gwaine is Gwaine and is capable of being included, but Morgana didn't try to kill Gwen or take over the kingdom…and Gwen didn't find out Morgana was evil?
> 
> It takes a bit of twisting, I know. Please work with me.
> 
> Note that I began writing this the day after 4x01 aired, so any similarities of events that occur is amazing happenstance, but was not planned. Though I did steal the Cup of Life from 3x12 and 3x13 for my own purposes. That idea does come from the BBC.
> 
> Lastly, you have NO IDEA how happy I am to FINALLY be posting this! It's been quite a journey. I feel like I've gone around the planet, mastered the four elements, defeated the Fire Lord, saved the world, and now I can actually breathe again.
> 
> Anyways, here it is. Presented in 14 parts.

Every man around the fire pit was sleeping and even the fire had gone out. Stars sparkled high in the sky and the night was silent as the grave. Not even crickets were chirping. The only tent was for the king to sleep in, except the king wasn't sleeping at all that night. A spot of candle light on the cloth walls of his tent hinted at movement.

Inside, the King sat in an ornate chair at a simple desk. He had his men assemble the desk every night and disassemble it every morning so that he would always have it no matter where he went. On the desk was a single slip of blank parchment, but the King was not looking at it. His dark eyes instead followed the movements of a beautiful blonde woman in a dark blue cloak as she strode back and forth around his sizable tent.

"The anniversary of Arthur's birth is tomorrow," she said in a rush, her tone calm. Her blue eyes flickered to the King.

He brushed his brown hair back and away from his face and gave a reassuring smile that looked a bit twisted on his lips. "Do not worry," he told her. "I've made it clear that I wish to apologize to Prince Arthur for our…unfortunate encounters all those months ago, and he has accepted. I will be in Camelot's castle before noon tomorrow."

Morgause frowned for a moment. Then she placed a gentle smile on her face and slunk closer to him in a sensual manner. "It is you who should not worry, my King," she said. "I know you will not fail me." She placed a hand on his shoulder and trailed it down his arm only slightly before pulling away. Her hand went inside her robe and when she pulled it back out there was a small vile clasped in her fingers. "Take this."

Cenred accepted the vial and inspected its blood red contents curiously. "And this will ensure our success?" he asked.

"Of course," Morgause said bitterly, upset that he doubted her. "Have your servant mix it with the wine for the King and his children," she said darkly, "and killing them will be like killing a baby bird. A simple push will do it."

An evil grin crooked Cenred's lips upward and he looked up at Morgause hovering beside him. "Thank you, my lady," he said with a short nod of his head, wrapping his fingers more securely around the bottle. He jerked his head toward the tent flap and frowned. "Now if you would please return my knights to me," he half-ordered, knowing Morgause hated being told what to do, "I have a long ride in the morning."

Morgause frowned deeply at him but let herself out of the tent anyway to wake up the knights.

…

…

Merlin scurried up the steps into the castle with blue flowers in his hands. He dodged around a servant girl carrying a basket of dirty laundry and a knight on his way to the armory and skid to a stop just outside the kitchen. He could smell the wonderful scents of breakfast, but the hint of what would be for dinner was already overtaking it.

With a smile, Merlin stepped into the kitchen. Two dozen cooks walked to and fro, moving things from the tables to the ovens and out again, lathering something liquid on top of a bread to make it sweet, or on a meat to make it juicy. Merlin quickly tucked the flowers into his belt behind his back, like he had once when hiding flowers for Morgana from Arthur, just as the head cook caught sight of him.

"You're late!" she accused.

Merlin winced. "I know. I know. Is it ready?" he asked, ducking his head.

As expected, the sad picture he presented quelled the cook's building ire and she let out a smile. "On the far table, as usual, Merlin."

He started slinking that way, keeping the flowers out of sight. The last thing he needed was someone thinking he'd picked flowers for one of the cooks or serving girls. He'd just reached it when the cook spoke again.

"Get a move on, Merlin!" she cried from across the room. "You'll be in for it from the prince if you're late today of all days!"

Merlin jumped. "Right! Right! I know!" He took the plate and beamed at the old woman. "But it's his birthday, so maybe he'll make an exception," he joked before sneaking out the door on this side of the kitchen instead of the door he'd come in through.

He scaled the castle steps with practiced ease and swerved around passing servants without dropping even the empty goblet on the tray in his hands. Stopping outside of Arthur's chambers, Merlin checked that everything was in its place on the tray, also making sure the blue flowers were still where he'd left them. Then he pushed the door open and slunk inside as quite as a mouse.

Arthur was still buried under his covers like a mole. Merlin grinned as he moved to the table and set down the tray of breakfast. Arthur was strange. He was the bravest knight and a very arrogant sod until the candles went out and then he slept like a kitten. A lion cub, actually.

Merlin took the flowers from his belt and looked at the table where Arthur wrote his speeches. His eyes flashed gold with the oldest spell he knew and the vase there flew through the air toward him. Merlin caught it easily and set it down on the table next to the tray of food. It was empty. This vase was usually empty, unless a maid or Gwen brought Arthur flowers. There had been flowers three days ago, and Merlin hadn't removed the vase yet, which was good as he needed it now.

"Ýð," he murmured, and water filled the vase to just the perfect height. Smiling, Merlin set the blue flowers into the vase. Arthur wouldn't admit it, but Merlin was fairly certain blue was Arthur's favorite color, besides the red of Camelot of course.

Moving to the curtains, Merlin pushed them aside to let the sun shine through. The light hit the side of Arthur's face, catching in his eye and waking him. "Mrr," he groaned into his pillows.

"Good morning, sire!" Merlin greeted cheerfully, moving to the other curtains. "And happy birthday!"

Arthur lazily rolled onto his back and let out a near silent yawn. "It'd be happy if you wouldn't wake me up so early."

Merlin glanced out the window at the bright sun. "But I'm later than usual."

Arthur peeked an eye open and actually seemed to take into account the brightness of his room. "Then it would be happy if you weren't making _me_ late," Arthur complained, slipping out of bed with the grace of a trained soldier.

Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur would find something to complain about no matter what Merlin did. But it was familiar and he didn't mind so much anymore, unless Arthur got completely out of hand with it.

"You would think you would have some sort of magical alarm to wake you in the morning so you wouldn't be late in serving me," Arthur continued as he made his way to the table with his breakfast on it.

"I'll look into it," Merlin responded with a bit of sarcasm.

Arthur plopped down into the seat and picked up his silverware. His eyes caught sight of the flowers and he paused, staring at them with a confused little frown on his face. "Merlin," he began.

"Yes?"

"Has Guinevere been to see me today?" he asked curiously, turning a bit to face his manservant.

Merlin shook his head and held his hands behind his back, standing in a relaxed yet at attention pose. "No. Not since I've been here," he informed the prince.

Arthur turned back to the flowers. Merlin struggled with a smile. "Another maid perhaps?"

Merlin's smile cracked his lips open to reveal his teeth. "No one's come to call this morning, Arthur. Except me."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You didn't 'come to call,' Merlin. It's your job to-" he stopped abruptly and turned in his chair once more to almost fully face Merlin by the bed. "You brought me flowers?" he asked, baffled.

Merlin turned and began fixing Arthur's sheets. "Well, it's the anniversary of your birth and you didn't have any and I thought it was just wrong for your table to be empty on a day like today," he said in a mock serious tone. Arthur's right eyebrow lifted into his hair line. "Besides," Merlin continued with a large smile, "I do believe you once asked why only Morgana got tokens of my affection, and that you're exact words were 'Where are my flowers'." He turned his teasing smile on Arthur.

For a moment, Arthur just stared at Merlin and blinked. Then a smile crept onto his face and he laughed, turning back to his food. Merlin went back to his duties.

"I don't know what to do with you sometimes, Merlin," Arthur half-giggled out with a shake of his head before tucking into his meal.

…

…

Only an hour later, Arthur was standing by his father on the steps of the castle, watching as carriage after carriage of lords and ladies and their servants and their guard all came to join in the festivities. Men came from Mora and ladies from Mercia, lords from Tirmaiur and kings of the Northern Plains, not to mention King Cenred. Arthur recognized every sigil, but not every name attached to them. His father tested him on each one before they were faced with the families, and he frowned whenever Arthur got one wrong.

"You need to study more," he murmured to Arthur just as King Gerren was out of earshot.

"I knew who he was," Arthur said, though in a quiet voice that also admitted he knew his father was right.

"Yes, but you did not know his son, Lord Cador, before him."

Arthur took a deep breath to calm himself and smiled as King Cenred stepped out of his carriage. The man was younger than Uther by many years and was not always the most peaceful of men. He'd kidnapped Gwen once, almost two years ago now. He'd also attacked Camelot during the days when Uther had been unwell, a few months before that. However, he'd sent a messenger to Uther with a long letter of his apologies and insistence that Morgause had bewitched him into doing it. Uther had accepted such an explanation without question. Arthur hadn't wanted to accept it, but one look at Merlin reminded him of the sword at his side and the destiny he had to fulfill. He had to unite all the lands of Albion, and he couldn't do that if Cenred was his enemy, so he kept quiet about his reservations.

"King Cenred," Uther greeted, sounding a bit cautious. He had not forgotten the attack Cenred had led against Camelot only a short time ago. He and Cenred shook hands firmly but amicably. "It was good of you to come."

Cenred nodded, his hair falling around his face in a way that matched even Gwaine's in charm. For a moment, Arthur wondered what the errant man was doing, and then Cenred turned his gaze to Arthur and Arthur focused on the visiting King once more.

"I wanted to come and show my allegiance to the heir of Albion," Cenred said in a rolling timbre, with a nod to Arthur. "And to assure you that my apologies are sincere, Prince Arthur."

Arthur shook his head slightly. "It is forgiven," Arthur said. It was….almost the truth. Maybe.

Cenred smiled. "I look forward to the celebrations tonight."

Uther nodded his head. "Yes. Performers and artisans have come from all over the kingdom this year. It promises to be an unforgettable evening."

Cenred's eyes crinkled into slits with his new smile. "I don't doubt it."

…

…

The festivities were in full swing. Acrobats had done some sort of intricate dance and stacked themselves in towers that Arthur was certain would never hold but somehow did. He'd received gifts from all the visiting nobility, including a large chest of gold from Cenred. Four courses of food had been served and mostly eaten. Minstrels were playing music and singing, as they had been all night. Fire burned brightly in the corners of the room, casting everything in an orange glow.

Cenred motioned his servant over. The man bent to pour wine into Cenred's goblet and Cenred slipped the vial Morgause had given him into the man's pocket and whispered in his ear. The servant stepped back only a moment later, no one the wiser.

Meanwhile, Merlin was going back for a new pitcher of wine. It was the fourth one he'd gone through tonight so far. He'd never noticed how much nobles drank before now. What if they ran out of wine before the night was through?

Another servant was at the table set up nearest the door that would lead to the kitchens. Kitchen servants periodically came out and placed more pitchers on this table, or bypassed it entirely to bring more food out to the guests. Merlin headed to the table and saw that there were only two pitchers there. Good. If he'd been made to stand there and wait, Uther and Arthur's cups would have run dry.

Just as Merlin got there, the servant already there - one of Cenred's, he noted - decided on which pitcher he wanted and grabbed the one directly in front of himself. He looked up when Merlin stopped next to him, nodded to him, and then walked off. Merlin smiled in return, briefly watched him go, and then grabbed the last of the pitchers.

Arthur already had his goblet out to be filled when Merlin got back, causing Merlin to roll his eyes. The prince was already past tipsy. It seemed that he was determined to get completely drunk tonight. Birthday or not, Merlin would tell him off, but he was close enough to Uther that the king might hear. Even if he didn't, Arthur was just drunk enough that he might repeat whatever Merlin said loud enough for the entire head table and their nearest neighbors to hear.

Merlin refilled Arthur's goblet and then Uther motioned for more for himself. So Merlin filled Uther's too. He looked at Morgana then. She rolled her eyes with a small smile, a flush already in her cheeks, and motioned for more in her goblet as well. Done with his immediate job, Merlin glanced around for any other lords who needed a drink. It seemed each lord had brought his own servants to pour wine for them and no one else needed any more right now, so Merlin stepped back to where the servants all waited in lines for their masters' calls.

Gwen was there and Merlin stood next to her. "It's a great feast," he said with a smile.

Gwen smiled back. "Yeah. I've never seen so many nobles in one room."

Merlin stood a bit taller with pride. "That's because they're ready to accept Arthur as their king."

Gwen's smile was replaced with a frown. "I'm not sure how Uther feels about that." She sighed as Merlin glanced at her. "He seems fine, I know…but think about it. His son is gaining more power amongst not only the people, but the nobility of neighboring kingdoms…and he's not even ill yet."

Merlin's eyes narrowed, remembering the Barghest's words. _"I come with a warning. Uther Pendragon will die before the year is out."_ That was nine months ago...

He looked back to where Arthur sat laughing with his father and took a deep breath. "Arthur's doing his best not to undermine his father," he began. "And Uther is doing all he can to prepare Arthur for the responsibilities he'll have as king. I think…they're both accepting it in their own ways."

A goblet rolled off the table and clattered to the floor, but the sound was lost in the din of the festivities. Arthur turned in his seat and reached down lazily to snatch the goblet up. It was a clumsy motion and Merlin knew it was time to take Arthur to bed.

"Duty calls," he said playfully to Gwen, who smiled at him, and then he made his way to the table again.

"Merlin," Arthur greeted with a lopsided smile when he saw his servant. "I…need a new goblet. This one fell on the floor."

Arthur was so close to slurring that Merlin actually felt a bit of concern. Setting his pitcher on the table, he pushed Arthur's goblet away from the prince's hand. "I think you should head to bed now. Sire," he added, speaking just loud enough that Arthur could hear him.

"Nonsense," Arthur disagreed with a shake of his head, and then held it. "Actually…I'm not feeling my best."

Morgana fanned herself, but stopped when it seemed to take too much effort. "I think I will head to sleep now," she said as daintily as she had ever said anything. "With your leave, my lord," she addressed to Uther.

Uther nodded. "Of course. Sleep well."

Morgana stood. Gwen was at her side almost instantly and they walked out of the room almost side by side. Merlin watched them go before looking back to Arthur. "And you?"

Uther regarded his son. "You look about to fall asleep in your pudding, Arthur," he said warningly. "How would that look to our guests?"

Arthur looked between his father and his manservant and gave a heavy sigh. "Alright. I'll go to bed." He muttered something under his breath and Merlin thought it was something like "Being treated like a child." Standing, he bowed unsteadily to his father. "By your leave."

"I'll see you in the morning," Uther agreed.

Merlin thought the old king himself looked like he was about to fall asleep in his pudding, but he kept his thoughts to himself and instead followed Arthur out of the great hall.

…

…

By the time they reached Arthur's rooms, Arthur was barely standing up anymore. His legs weren't cooperating with his brain and he felt so tired he couldn't think straight. He'd never felt so tired in his life.

"M-merlin," he stumbled out. He was leaning heavily on his door, his eyes shut, while Merlin opened the other door.

Merlin took Arthur's right arm and looped it over his shoulder, then half dragged the prince into his room. "Wow. You're so drunk you don't care that you can't walk," Merlin noted absently.

Arthur shook his head even as Merlin let him sink into his bed. "M'not…drunk," he said slowly. "Strange…I just feel…," He huffed heavily, "so tired. Can barely move my head."

Merlin shrugged as he pulled the covers up over Arthur's shoulders. "Whatever you say, milord. It is your birthday after all."

Arthur grunted angrily. " _Merlin_ ," he ground out. He couldn't keep his eyes open long enough to glare.

But Merlin wasn't there anymore. He'd gone to the antechamber to fetch the spare chamber pot – the clean one Arthur rarely used – in case Arthur decided to retch. It was easier to clean copper than the rich quilts on Arthur's bed.

He slipped back through the antechamber door into Arthur's room with the chamber pot in hand. Looking up from the door handle as he squeezed through the half open door, Merlin froze. There was a man dressed in all black standing over Arthur in the bed. And there was a knife in his hand.

"Hey!" Merlin cried out.

The man turned his head, his eyes going wide. It was obvious he hadn't expected Merlin to be there. Merlin dropped the chamber pot and ran at the man. The guy grabbed Merlin and flipped him around the way Arthur usually did when Merlin attacked him bare handed. Thinking back, attacking the guy had probably been a really stupid idea.

"Capiende," Merlin huffed out. The man holding him gave a cry as he was flung backward and over the bed, landing on the floor on the other side. Merlin gasped when the motion also tore him backwards as well, since the man had still been holding him. He landed sprawled on Arthur's bed, his legs over Arthur's midsection.

"Urrr," Arthur groaned, but only tilted his head.

"Sorry," Merlin managed before "Ah!"

The assassin grabbed Merlin by the shoulders and tore him off the bed. Merlin hit the ground hard and grunted in pain. He saw the blade in the man's hand as it was raised up over Merlin's chest. Merlin's eyes shone gold and the knife flew out of the assassin's hand and embedded itself in the leg of Arthur's desk. The assassin looked from the knife to Merlin with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Merlin narrowed his eyes at the man. "Swebban!"

As with Hyne, the assassin's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He tipped forward and landed heavily on top of Merlin.

"Guh," Merlin let out. He wriggled out from under the man and went to Arthur. "Arthur…! Are you alright?" Merlin pat Arthur's chest, checking for a wound.

Arthur snapped his hand on top of Merlin's, halting the movement. "I'm. fine," he ground out. "The assassin?"

Merlin shook his head. "Unconscious." And suddenly a light bulb went on. "Arthur, I think they drugged you."

Arthur glared up at him. "Really? Don't think I'm drunk...now?" he managed.

Merlin gave a withered glare right back and then his eyes widened. "Drunk. The wine. Your father drank the wine too. And Morgana," Merlin said in horror.

Merlin jumped back when Arthur managed to sit up. The prince held the bedpost and forced himself to a standing position. "We," he said heavily, "have to go to my father."

"You're in no condition to be going anywhere," Merlin disagreed.

Arthur looked about to fall over. His grip on the bedpost was iron tight, but the rest of him was limp as a cooked noodle. When he blinked, his eyes stayed closed for much longer than they were open. Still, he glared at Merlin. The effect was somewhat lessened by the way he was leaning his head on the bedpost to keep it upright.

"I will…not stay here…when my father is in danger," he rushed out. "Must protect-"

"Right right," Merlin interrupted. "Fine." He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window across the bed from him. "Wouldn't want you by yourself right now anyway," he muttered. "You can barely protect yourself even when you're not fatigued."

"What was that?" Arthur asked with a hint of anger. "I…am perfectly capable…of protecting myself." As if to prove this, Arthur pushed off the bedpost and moved to grab Excalibur from where it rested against the wall. He stumbled after two steps and Merlin had to catch him before he tumbled to the ground.

"Yep," Merlin agreed. "You've proved your point, Arthur," he said sarcastically. Arthur's grip on his arm tightened, but that was the only sign of Arthur's irritation. "Come on. With you so incapacitated, it'll take us long enough to get to your father. We need to hurry."

Merlin grabbed Excalibur and half-walked half-dragged Arthur to the door. There he let Arthur simply lean against the wood while he himself poked his head out into the hall. He saw a servant girl with red hair passing just at the edge of sight.

"Silvia!" he called out.

The girl, Silvia, stopped and looked back at Merlin. Merlin waved her over and she came. In her hands was an empty tray. She'd probably just delivered something to one of the visiting nobles. "Merlin? Is something wrong?"

Merlin nodded quickly. "A man just tried to kill Arthur," he told her. She gasped and nearly dropped her tray. "Arthur's gone to see the King. They want to keep it quiet for now, so could you get the guards to collect the body lying in here, without raising the alarm?"

Silvia nodded in agreement. "O-of course." And she rushed away and out of sight.

Pulling back inside, Merlin grabbed Arthur and wrapped Arthur's arm around his shoulders. "Alright. Let's get going."

"You. Are. Such. A liar," Arthur told him in short bursts of conversation. A breath of a laugh left him. "I'll have to pay more attention in the future."

Merlin refrained from rolling his eyes. "Less talking. More walking."

…

…

By the time they reached Uther's chambers, Arthur was almost walking on his own. Amazingly, Merlin was pretty sure it was the force of Arthur's will that got him over the drug so quickly. Which meant it was likely not a drug but a magic potion that had caused this, and that made Merlin worry all the more.

Pushing open the door to Uther's room, Arthur and Merlin caught a man in black poised just as Merlin had found the assassin in Arthur's room: holding a sharp blade and ready to strike. Uther's eyes were open and piercing, but he was lying in bed as if he'd simply fallen in and he was only staring up at his masked killer. His sword lay on the ground, and Merlin would guess perhaps the old king had tried to put up a fight before they walked in.

Arthur grabbed Excalibur from Merlin's hand and then shoved his servant aside. "Back away from the king!" he ordered.

The assassin and Uther both looked to Arthur at his call. Arthur stepped forward threateningly and the assassin pulled back from Uther and returned his dagger to its small sheath at his side. Then the man grabbed Uther's sword from where Uther had dropped it on the ground. He stood battle ready to face Arthur.

Arthur took a deep breath and attacked. Their blades met in midair with a clang, but it was only a moment before the assassin had pushed Arthur back. The potion had Arthur at a severe disadvantage. The assassin swung at Arthur from the left and Arthur blocked and managed to throw the man's sword back. For a moment, the assassin just stared at Arthur. Then he raised both his arms above his head and brought the sword down in a quick and furious strike from above. Arthur lifted his sword to parry the attack, but the force of the blow knocked his sword wide. Arthur barely managed to dodge in time to avoid being cleaved in two.

Now the assassin stood between Arthur and Merlin, but Arthur was between him and the king. Merlin saw Arthur's grip on his sword shake. He remembered Freya's words and Arthur's recount of the fight with the Basilisk. If Arthur kept hold of Excalibur, even with the potion running through his body, he could still win this fight.

The man in black stepped forward and Arthur took a half step back. He wobbled briefly, his eyes shutting, and released Excalibur with one hand to reach out and grab the foot of Uther's bed for support. His eyes opened a split second later to find the assassin already charging at him. One handed, Arthur lifted Excalibur and swung to knock his father's sword from the assassin's hand. The blades met. The assassin lost his grip on Uther's sword and it clattered across the floor, but Arthur also dropped Excalibur.

Merlin's eyes widened.

Pulling his dagger once more, the assassin lunged at Arthur. Merlin threw out his right hand, his eyes flashing gold, and the assassin froze mid step. Flinging his arm to the left sent the man colliding harshly with the stone wall. The knife fell from his hands and he landed on the floor in a heap. Another flick of his wrist and the dagger flew into Merlin's outstretched hands.

The danger over, Merlin took a deep breath and turned his attention to Arthur and Uther. Both of them were staring at him with wide eyes. Merlin blushed and quickly set the dagger down on the nearby dresser. "S-sorry."

Arthur shook his head, but then held it when that made him dizzy. "Merlin…" He stopped, eyes flashing open, and stared at Merlin urgently. "Morgana."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You stay here, I'll go check on her."

For once, Arthur had no jibe to throw. It was obvious that Merlin _could_ handle himself against these assassins. So he just watched in silence as his manservant wizard disappeared out the door again. Once they were alone, save for the unconscious-possibly-dead-from-a-head-wound assassin, Arthur focused on his father.

"Did he hurt you, father?" he asked, letting himself fall to sit on the bed. He was still so _tired_.

Uther shook his head. "No. But I can't move."

Arthur nodded. "Something in the wine," he informed the older man. With Arthur's help, Uther managed to sit up, propped against his many pillows. Arthur grinned. "You know, father…maybe you should get a good...manservant," he managed to tease, even with his eyelids feeling as heavy as boulders.

Uther's lips quirked downward. "Not likely," he said simply, and Arthur stopped smiling.

"Listen," Arthur began slowly. "About what Merlin just did…"

Uther shook his head. "Stop." He fixed his gaze upon Arthur with clear eyes that seemed to pierce straight through Arthur. "I've known about him for long enough…" He let himself smile then. "I was…beginning to wonder when he would tell you."

Arthur scoffed and leaned on the foot of the bed, letting his gaze wander the room. "Yes, well, I'm not thrilled he told you first."

"He didn't tell me," Uther said, sounding on the verge of sleep. Arthur's eyes flicked back to his father. Uther still had that strange smile on his face that meant he was trying to be funny. "I accused him…after the Canyon." If he meant to make that into a joke, it fell flat.

A pensive expression took over Arthur's face then. "Why didn't you kill him?" he asked quietly. He was feeling better by the moment, the effects of the potion wearing off more and more. Uther gave him a somewhat confused look and Arthur blamed it on the wine. "You hate magic so much. You've taught me all my life that it was evil. So…why didn't you kill him?"

He'd been meaning to ask this for while, but the thought of bringing the subject up with his father always seemed so dangerous. Merlin said his father knew, but what if he was wrong? What if Uther decided to kill Merlin when Arthur brought it up? It hadn't seemed worth the risk to satisfy his own curiosity.

Uther shut his eyes, thinking. After a long while, he shook his head. "When- When I told him I would kill him…he called me an idiot." Arthur laughed once, silently. Only Merlin. Uther opened his eyes and looked at Arthur again. "Then he spoke of destiny and serving you forever."

Arthur remembered just such a conversation he'd once had with his servant. Merlin had always been foolishly loyal, facing any enemy in defense of Camelot, of Arthur.

Uther managed a tired shrug. "I suppose he simply caught me off guard…and I realized he was too big a fool to be a danger."

At that, Arthur actually did laugh. "Well, I'd have to agree with you there," he chuckled.

Uther smiled as well. It was far too rare to hear his son laugh.

"Although," Arthur began in a thoughtful voice, "he's become much more useful since revealing his magic."

"A fool is still a fool," Uther said as if complaining. "Now no more talk of magic, or I may decide to kill him after all."

Arthur shut his mouth at once.

…

…

Gaius visited Uther and Arthur later that night, while Merlin stayed with Morgana in case of an attack. Uther was mostly unconscious by the time the aging doctor arrived, but he roused himself enough to tell Gaius what happened.

He had just arrived in his chambers from the banquet when a man, his face hidden, had come from the shadows and attacked him. Uther had grabbed his sword and fought the man, but it felt like all of his strength was being sucked away and in only a few blows, he'd dropped his sword and fallen to his bed. That's when Arthur came in, so Arthur told Gaius the rest.

Gaius checked them both over and then left to do some tests while the king slept.

Uther was in Gaius's chambers first thing the next morning, after the effects of the potion had worn off, demanding the answers.

"My best guess, sire," Gaius said, trying to keep Uther calm, "is that someone put something in the wine that was served to the high table."

Uther immediately looked to Merlin, who shied away - as much as a seated man could. Gaius frowned.

"I don't think it was anyone here," he clarified, drawing the King's attention back to him and not his ward. "If I had to lay blame, I would say it was one of the guests or a member of their party."

Uther's face was twisted in an angry grimace. "Who would dare to poison my family, and on such a day?"

Gaius shrugged. Arthur was standing near the table where Merlin and Gaius ate their meals, and Merlin was seated on the steps leading to his room. Neither of them said a word, simply letting the two men talk.

"I have no idea, sire," Gaius told him with a short shake of his head. "Perhaps someone who does not agree with the way you rule the kingdom. Or perhaps someone wants to take it over?" Uther scoffed like that was the stupidest idea in the world. Gaius frowned. "Are you certain you didn't notice anything suspicious last night?"

"Of course not," Uther admonished his old friend. "If I had, I would have told you already. It was a festive occasion and there were guards throughout the room. I assumed everything was in order," he said bitterly. It seemed he was as upset that someone had managed to slip past the castle's many defenses as he was about actually being attacked.

Gaius moved to one of his work benches, where six books were opened to random pages. They were the books he'd used to research last night. When Merlin had told him he thought it was the wine, Gaius had had him fetch the pitcher and had tested what was left inside.

"Then I don't know what to tell you," Gaius said, sounding mildly tired. "The effects of the," he paused briefly, "poison," he said with a nod, "only lasted the night, so you, Arthur, and Morgana should be fine now. As far as I can find, there are no lingering side effects and no permanent damage."

Uther huffed quietly, then turned to Arthur, who stood at attention immediately. "Arthur."

"Yes, father?"

"From now on, train the knights twice as hard. The guards as well. This cannot happen again. Camelot's defenses must be such that assassins cannot just walk in and kill the king." He frowned. "Regardless of who slipped us the poison, the assassins should not have made it inside to finish us off."

Arthur nodded. "Of course. First thing tomorrow."

Uther nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have guests to speak with. Hopefully I can uncover some idea as to who would dare to cross me in such a way." His frown deepening, the king walked from the room. Only when the sound of his footsteps faded from the hall outside the door did anyone speak.

"I think I made him angry," Merlin stated. Both other men in the room turned to look at him and Merlin pushed himself to a standing position. "Because I used so much magic last night."

Arthur shook his head. "Forget it, Merlin. He's not about to have you beheaded, so be grateful." He shot Merlin a pointed look and Merlin nodded in assent. "I have to go. A lot of the visiting nobles wanted to speak with me yesterday and it would be unseemly if I ignored them. Besides, I should be helping my father." Arthur let out a soft sigh and then, "Merlin, don't forget to clean up my room and brush my horse. Lord Dinadan likes to ride and I don't doubt he'll only want to talk with me once we're both on horseback."

"What about assassins?" Merlin asked, panicking only a bit.

Arthur forced himself not to roll his eyes and propped his right hand on his hip. "Really, Merlin, you've protected me from a distance before. I see no reason why you can't do it now. Besides, I kept myself alive for twenty years before you showed up. I think I can handle one day. This is for the good of the kingdom."

Merlin watched Arthur go with his jaw on the floor. Once they were alone, Merlin turned to Gaius with his flabbergasted look. "He's insane," he said with a weak arm gesture toward the door. "I can't protect him if I don't know when he's in danger," he complained.

"Merlin, we have more distressing things to worry about," Gaius chastised him.

Merlin shut his mouth and hurried over to his mentor. "What's the matter?"

Gaius shut the book before him. "About the poison from last night…"

"It was a potion. A magical one," Merlin agreed with the unspoken statement. "I know. Arthur overcame it when he feared for Uther's life."

Gaius nodded. "He's got a strong will. But that's not the problem. The problem is _who_ made the potion." He fixed a deadly serious gaze on Merlin. "You're sure no assassins went after Morgana?"

Merlin nodded. "Positive. I asked her and she told me no one but Gwen had been to her room before me, and no one came in after. She wasn't attacked."

"So either the one behind these attacks didn't think Morgana was a target, because no one outside of this castle knows she's Uther's daughter, or…," he trailed off.

Merlin's eyes hardened. "Morgause. She wouldn't attack Morgana." He shook his head. "It had to be Cenred." Gaius lifted an eyebrow and Merlin shrugged. "He's worked with Morgause before, when he kidnapped Gwen, and when he attacked Camelot." Gaius opened his mouth but Merlin shook his head again to keep Gaius quiet. "I know he said he was under a spell, but I don't believe him. Especially not now. I can go ask Morgana if he was under a spell, but I'm telling you he wasn't. Cenred wants the Pendragons dead. That's why he came to the celebrations at all. He said he wanted to apologize, but he just wanted to get close enough to poison them for those assassins."

Gaius let out a breath. "I believe you," he assured Merlin. "But there's nothing we can do about it. There's no proof that Cenred did anything beyond enjoy the feast last night. And like it or not, you are just a servant, Merlin."

"But Arthur-"

"Is only a prince. Cenred is a king," Gaius reminded. "Accusing him of using magic to poison the king and prince would start a war."

Merlin frowned in a way that was part grimace and part pout. "He's worse than Vortigern."

Gaius scowled. "No. I think Vortigern will always be my least favorite of your past enemies."

That was understandable. Hyne had attacked Gaius and kidnapped Merlin. Not to mention how Merlin had been half dead from the wound to his arm and the revolt by the time Arthur and the others had returned to Camelot with him. Vortigern had made it personal and Gaius would probably never forgive the man, even though the warlord was long dead.

Merlin couldn't help but smile at his uncle. It soon melted into a frown though. "I'm still worried about Arthur…"

Gaius sighed. "As am I. But he has you to protect him, and Morgana. Just keep an eye on Cenred until he leaves in a few days."

Merlin nodded. "Oh," he let out, his determined expression faltering. "But first I have to ready Arthur's horse." The situation was not a good one, they both knew that, but the simplistic normalcy of Merlin's chores made Gaius smile, and soon Merlin was smiling too. At length, Merlin shook his head. "I should get going." He hurried across the room and out the door, Gaius smiling after him all the way.

...

...

The rest of the festivities passed with high spirits all around. None of the nobles were any the wiser that the king and prince had nearly been murdered. Except Cenred. For three days, Cenred frowned like his food and wine had personally offended him. Merlin saw it, as did Arthur. But when Merlin brought it up, Arthur told him the same thing Gaius had.

"He is a King, Merlin. Regardless of my destiny, he is still more powerful than I am right now. He has a large army and controls a lot of land." He sighed. "I have to at least try to make him an ally. If I have to fight him later, then so be it. But for now, all I can do is keep an eye on him and pretend I don't want to cut off his head."

"Well don't make me serve him anything," Merlin warned. "I'd probably poison his food or stab him with a fork or something without realizing it until it's too late."

Even with the seriousness of the situation, Arthur smiled. He gave a much less genuine smile as he saw Cenred off on the last day of celebrations. If Uther had picked up on Cenred's foul mood, he didn't comment on it.

And then the castle was empty of its many guests. Merlin kept an eye open for danger at every turn for days after, to the point that Arthur smacked him over the head and told him to calm down because he was making Arthur paranoid. Arthur trained the knights harder than ever, and even started Merlin's training up again.

Nothing happened. No one attacked. There wasn't even a whisper of danger or magic or any plots. Two weeks after Arthur's birthday, Merlin had to admit that Arthur appeared to be safe.

For now.

...

...

"You said that potion would ensure our victory," Cenred fumed, once again seated on his throne. His eyes trailed after Morgause as she meandered around his throne room.

She ran a hand over the armor of one of Cenred's knights absently and then looked at her fingers as she walked away from him.

"It should have," she agreed. Then she turned and locked her eyes on the king's. "Many times I have tried to kill the Pendragons, and many times I have failed. It may be time to make use of a resource I have since ignored."

Cenred frowned. "What 'resource' is that?" he asked, in a sarcastic tone.

Morgause gave a smile yet demeaning smile. "The sort that no king of men can find."

…

…

…

**Next Time: The Greatest Truth**

_Faced with a terrible prophesy, Morgause sets out to change fate. Protecting Arthur places Merlin in the midst of her trap. Without his prophesized sorcerer at his side, who will protect Arthur from Morgause's next attack? And now Morgause has a new and powerful ally against Camelot. It can't be…Merlin?!_

…

…

So…for the start of a new adventure…I hope you like it. I thought it fitting to start posting this one the same day that the last episode aired (24th) but I'm impatient so it's early! Also, I was shocked when there was an episode that had this same basic premise. I swear I wrote this before the episode aired.

New chapters will be posted weekly!


	2. The Greatest Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with a terrible prophesy, Morgause sets out to change fate and protecting Arthur places Merlin in the midst of her trap. Without his prophesized sorcerer at his side, who will protect Arthur from Morgause's next attack? Now Morgause has a new and powerful ally against Camelot. It can't be…Merlin?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to Silklightning_Seychelles for their review to chapter 1! And to jkrm310 for the bookmark! Also to everyone who read but did not leave a review as well! Enjoy chapter 2.

Morgause walked calmly down the rickety pier to the boat tied at the end. An old man stood there by the boat, and he held his hand out to her once she approached. Slipping a coin into his palm without a word, Morgause stepped into the boat. The man followed shortly after.

The ride across the misty, dark lake was quiet as death. In front of the boat, in the center of the great lake, a castle loomed, like a herald of darker times. In the past, it had glittered like new hope in the sun, but the sun rarely shone here these days. A winged beast shot into the sky from one of the castle's many towers, crying out, and another call answered it moments later. Morgause paid none of this any heed.

The boat docked again, this time within the castle walls. Morgause stepped out as the man tied his craft to a wooden pole in the water and walked swiftly but silently, even her cloak barely making a noise. Several minutes passed with only the occasional cry of the wyvern far above. Then Morgause came out into an open courtyard.

There were several stone pillars scattered about the edges, proving this used to be a great covered hall. Along one end was a raised stone floor, cracking but solid. This may have been where the highest of the priestesses held important ceremonies or addressed the other keepers of the Old Religion in mass. A small, raised stone basin was just in front of the raised floor, and standing beside it was a woman well known to most of the magical world.

She had golden blonde hair down to the middle of her back and deep green eyes that seemed to shine with an iridescent glow. She wore a simple green dress with sheer sleeves down to her elbows and a thin silver chain necklace. While similar in appearance to Morgause, this woman had an ethereal youth to her that would likely never fade. This was Tethella, the most powerful seer to ever live.

Tethella was waiting for her, her eyes locked on the place where Morgause appeared long before the dark witch finally showed. Morgause walked over to her and stopped on the opposite side of the stone basin.

"You know why I have come," Morgause stated simply.

Tethella nodded. "You need a prophecy, but your sister has returned to her previous alliances, leaving you without a seer."

Morgause frowned. "Yes. I trust that you have not also given yourself to this boy prince?"

"You know better, Morgause," Tethella said as if chastising a young child. "Seers are of no side. We are neither good, nor evil. We may choose to help one group or one person for a time, but our alliances are never so firm that they cannot change."

"So there is hope for my sister?" Morgause asked, unable to keep her joy from seeping into her tone.

Tethella simply stared at Morgause for a long time. Then her eyes lowered to the water in the stone bowl between them. "I have seen the future, Morgause. Your future. You have but to ask, and I will reveal to you its secrets." Her eyes lifted back to Morgause's.

Morgause hesitated. She'd come here for this purpose, but did she truly want to know? Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me."

Tethella ran the fingers of her right hand through the water in an almost idle fashion, her eyes trailing slowly down to stare into its depths. "I will tell you…of your death."

Morgause flinched, but Tethella gave no sign she'd noticed.

"It will come at the hands of a man called Emrys. On this path you have chosen to walk, he walks opposite you. For every darkness you create, so he creates a light. Inevitably, you will meet each other in combat. You will face him in a struggle for life and power…and you will fall."

Morgause forced herself to stand tall. "How long until this day?"

Tethella looked up at Morgause curiously, almost as if she did not understand the question. "A person may live their life in whatever way they choose, and live every day to its fullest, so long as they live in the fear of death."

Morgause narrowed her eyes. "You taunt me with riddles when I came for answers," she accused angrily. Tethella did not react to her hostility. "Tell me who this Emrys is, so I might change my fate," she demanded.

Tethella smiled, but it was ambiguous and foreign to Morgause. It was not a friendly smile, but it was not hostile either. "He is a man whose loyalties will never be questioned. You have right to fear him, Morgause, for you shall not know him until you behold him in all his power. You see, you have met him before, but Emrys is a peculiar sort of sorcerer. Unassuming on the outside," she touched the water with the tip of her finger, creating ripples, "but so very beautiful on the inside."

Morgause sniffed haughtily, something few would dare to do in the face of such a powerful seer. "I will not fall to some shadow of a man," she claimed. "I will grow more powerful, I will gather my forces, and when I face this _Emrys_ , I will make him tremble before me. Watch me change destiny," she challenged.

Tethella gave a genuinely interested smile. "I quite look forward to watching your tries."

Turning, Morgause stalked away, ever graceful and quiet. She would not bend to destiny's will. She would make her own fate, by her own hand. To combat such a force as Emrys, one who was so powerful, she would need her own army. That was where she would start. Camelot had the best army among men, so she would claim it for her own.

However, she reasoned as she once again stepped into the boat to return to the mainland, Camelot was guarded by not one, but two sorcerers. One was her sister, whom she could never harm. The other was Merlin. Morgause was certain she could charm her sister back to her side, but Merlin was a different matter. Through trials and tribulations, he'd remained steadfast at Arthur's side. She would have to take…different measures to procure his loyalties.

…

…

From his seat in the great hall, Uther shook his head in disdain. Arthur sat to his right and Morgana to his left, his two shining beacons of hope. Merlin had been carrying a tray down the hall toward him, upon which was a box full of coins from a noble who wished to pledge fealty to Uther, and Arthur when he became king. How did he know it held coins? Because Merlin had tripped a little over halfway to them and dumped the whole thing onto the floor. He was now bent over and scrabbling to gather the lost coins back into their gem encrusted box. Luckily the lord who had sent the gift was not in attendance, or Merlin may have very well lost his head.

This man was meant to help Arthur rule Albion some day? It seemed impossible.

Arthur had his face in his right hand, mirroring his father's shame and disbelief. "Merlin," Uther heard his son sigh out.

They would have to throw him in the dungeons for the rest of the day, possibly two, to make up for this insult. Uther had come to accept that Merlin generally meant no harm, but the boy was a complete idiot. Why Uther had ever feared an attack by the boy was beyond him.

Finally, the last coin was replaced in the box and Merlin was standing again. His face was redder than a ripe tomato and he kept his eyes on his feet even as he handed the beautiful gift over to Uther.

As a servant should act, Arthur thought, though the deference did not suit Merlin at all. Merlin was meant to stand with his head held high and stare nobility in the face, conceited as that may be, and state his opinion without fear. Someday, he would have a position that fit his personality.

Uther passed the box on to one of his servants, who set it on a table to the side; without dropping it. He then waved Merlin away and the shamed man scurried to stand behind Arthur and just to his right.

"Next," Uther called out.

The doors to the hall opened and Uther lifted his head to greet the next peasant with a grievance into his presence. However, the man outside the doors was lying on the floor in a heap. Every knight was instantly on guard and every noble sat straighter in their seats. For a long moment, nothing happened. Uther began to think that perhaps the man simply fainted while waiting for his turn, but a part of his gut told him something more sinister had occurred.

Finally, a fully armored knight, not of Camelot, stepped into view. Arthur didn't need to wait for the helm to be removed. He recognized this armor. Pulling Excalibur from it sheath, Arthur stood at the ready. "Morgause!" he shouted.

Morgause threw both of her hands out to the sides. The knights of Camelot flew up, over the heads of the gathered nobles, and smashed into the walls with sickening crunches. Morgana had stood from her seat as well by now. As if she had all the time in the world, Morgause removed her helmet. She smiled a crooked smile at them all.

"Everyone is here, I see," she began. Her eyes flicked from Morgana to watch as Merlin stepped closer to Arthur. "Good. I will make this quick, then." Even as she lifted her hand to Arthur, her eyes stayed fixed on Merlin. Only at the last moment did she stare at the prince. "Insegl-" Merlin's eyes widened in panic and he rushed in front of Arthur, raising his own hand. His mouth opened, but Morgause was quicker, "ingemynd."

Her eyes flashed gold and she felt the power shoot forth from her hand toward her intended target. The air seemed to curve in front of her hand and then rush forward, slamming into Merlin's chest, an almost invisible spell. Merlin's mouth dropped open further, jaw slack, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He swayed where he stood for a brief moment before collapsing to the hard stone floor.

"Merlin!" Arthur called out. He moved to kneel by his manservant, the rest of the hall staring in shock. What had just happened? It was so fast.

Morgause flicked her hand out and Arthur was thrown back into his great seat.

"Arthur," Uther let out, turning to check on his son. Arthur held his head, his world spinning.

Morgause swept fluidly across the hall. The nobles shrank away as she drew near them, afraid to end up like Arthur and his knights, or worse, like Merlin. Morgana stepped away from her chair instead, closer to Merlin and closer to her sister as she approached.

Morgause paused next to Merlin and sent a sickly smile Morgana's way. "I will return," she promised. Then she knelt on the ground, threw out a spell faster than Morgana could catch it, and she and Merlin vanished from the room in a rush of wind.

Morgana's eyes widened. "No." She took three steps and stood where Merlin and her sister had been only moments before. There was nothing to say they'd ever been here, not now.

Morgana's voice seemed to finally clear Arthur's head, or maybe it was the exit of Morgause. Either way, he suddenly jumped back up, ready to fight, only to find his opponent gone. Not to mention his manservant. Arthur's jaw dropped. "Wha-"

Uther threw his hand out. "Send out the knights at once! Find her! She _cannot_ escape!" The _again_ was left unsaid.

Arthur and Morgana shared a look. They both knew the truth by now. Morgause was long gone, and no one could find her unless she wanted to be found. And now she had Merlin.

…

…

Arthur stepped into his chambers, Morgana a step behind. She shut the door behind her and locked it; the smooth motion conveying years of practice. Arthur walked to the window and stared out at the courtyard, where guards and knights were rushing in practiced lines and groups in every direction, searching for any sign of Morgause. A few men were on horseback and charging out of the city to search the forest around Camelot as well.

With a sigh, Arthur turned and looked at Morgana. "It's a waste of time," he complained.

Morgana gave a minute shrug. "Your father thinks he's doing what's best," she said after a moment. Arthur still didn't know they were related, and she wasn't sure she was ready to tell him.

Arthur locked eyes with her, and his gaze hinted at his worry. "Morgana, do you have _any_ idea where Morgause took him?" He wanted to be out there, finding Merlin, doing _something_.

All she could do was frown. Arthur let out an aggravated sigh and turned back to the window. "I'm sorry, Arthur. We moved around quite a bit when I was working with her," Morgana explained. "Uther's guard was always searching for us. We couldn't stay still. The only place she had that was stable was a small cave in the Mountains of Isgaro." Arthur looked at her hopefully and Morgana shook her head. "She would know we were after her and would avoid the cave at all costs. There's…really no way of knowing where she is."

A deep frown took over Arthur's face. "Thank you anyway, Morgana," he said quietly. His gaze turned back out the window, slower this time. After several long moments of silence, he spoke again. "Why take Merlin? She was aiming at me. She wanted me. So why take Merlin?"

Morgana shook her head. It wouldn't do for Arthur to somehow blame himself for this. She touched his shoulder gently and he turned to face her. Again, she shook her head. "She wasn't after you."

Arthur's eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"When Morgause entered that hall, her only target was Merlin. From the moment she walked in, she was taunting him. She threatened you because she knew Merlin would try to save you," Morgana informed him solemnly.

"But why go after Merlin?" Arthur asked again.

Morgana frowned pensively for a brief moment. "She knows of Merlin's magic, as I do. Perhaps she intended to leave you defenseless." Morgana stepped back from Arthur and turned halfway away so she could look at the unlit hearth. "Standing over Merlin in the hall, she looked at me and said 'I will return.' Perhaps she intends to return and take me as well, leaving you with no one to protect you against her magic. Except…"

"Except?" Arthur encouraged when his sister did not continue for several long seconds.

Morgana turned her eyes to Arthur. "Why take him? If she wanted to leave you defenseless, all she needed to do was to kill Merlin. If she'd thrown a killing curse at you and hit Merlin instead, that would have been enough." Arthur flinched and Morgana pretended not to notice. "Instead, she took him with her. He must be alright, then. She wouldn't take a dead body back with her."

That statement, at least, seemed to release some of the tension Arthur carried. Though the only place his relief showed was in a small softening of his mouth and eyes, Morgana saw it. She could understand his feelings, though. She would be miserable if anything happened to Gwen. In fact, she had been inconsolable when Gwen was kidnapped.

Sadly, she had to dampen that relief a bit. "Taking him alive…I'm afraid Merlin might be in for an even worse fate."

…

…

The world came to him in blurs and foggy lights. It shifted and warped before finally he felt he was seeing the true shape of things. There was a stone ceiling, _a cave_ , he reminded himself. Orange and yellow light danced across it, throwing any dip or curve into distorted shadow. And staring down at him with the most worried expression he could remember…was a woman. She had long, curly blonde hair and grey-blue eyes. Her face was that of someone just passing their prime, but still young and strong and capable. The worried expression struck him as odd, like it didn't belong on that face….

He suddenly realized she was speaking. Her lips were moving but he couldn't hear a word. He knit his eyebrows together and she stopped, pursing her lips and her eyes growing a bit harder. He read the words 'Sit up' and she grabbed him by the arm and helped him up. Reaching to the side, the woman picked up a cup and handed it to him. 'Drink.'

He did as told and immediately started to feel better. The throbbing in his head eased away, the aches on his back vanished like nothing, and the world became full of sound. When he was done drinking the strangely sweet liquid, the woman smiled at him again.

"There. All better?" she asked gently.

He nodded. "Yes. Thank you so much." He hated not being able to hear. He furrowed his eyebrows. "I'm sorry but…do I know you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "I thought as much." She motioned to herself in one swift motion and then set her hands on her legs. "My name is Morgause. Your name is Merlin. We're friends."

Something about that seemed off. "Friends?" Merlin asked.

Morgause nodded. "Yes. We work for Camelot. Or," she scowled, "we did." At Merlin's confused expression, she expounded. "We're sorcerers. Magic users. In Camelot, magic is forbidden on pain of death." Merlin flinched and Morgause nodded understandingly. "The King is unrelenting in this and has never spared man nor child if there is even a hint that they might be simply thinking about magic."

"He sounds…terrible," Merlin admitted softly, the cup still in his hands. He looked around himself in the following moment of silence.

There was a small fire creating warmth and light for the little cave they were in. Two horses were tied to a rock and appeared to be sleeping. There was a sleeping mat under Merlin, and another on the other side of the fire, unused. Besides that, the cave was empty save for Merlin and Morgause.

Morgause's voice broke through his observations. "He is. But his son was proving to be more agreeable. Without his father's knowing, he employed three sorcerers; myself, you, and my sister Morgana. We protected the capital city from threats. But behind our backs, the Prince and Morgana conspired against us," she revealed in a dark voice. Merlin's eyes widened. "They attacked us. I assume they intended to betray us to the king to save themselves any blame. Morgana attacked me. Me, her own sister," she said bitterly. "You tried to save me, and Morgana's spell hit you instead."

"Spell?" Merlin repeated worriedly. What sort of spell had he been hit with? Was he a toad? Was he disfigured?

Morgause nodded, looking grave. "I'm sorry. I wished it weren't true. But the moment you woke up I knew it was…She took away your memories."

The truth didn't hit Merlin as hard as he thought it would. In fact, he felt stupid. Obviously! He hadn't even known his own name when he first woke up.

"Why?" Merlin asked. "Why take away my memories?"

"They probably meant to do the same to both of us, so we couldn't reveal their part in our 'treachery.'" Morgause frowned deeply and looked to the fire instead of at Merlin.

She was upset. Merlin could understand where she was coming from. Her own sister had betrayed her. They'd been doing good, or at least he hoped they'd done good. Morgause had said they protected the city, after all. All that work, saving people, and yet they'd been betrayed, attacked. It wasn't right. It just wasn't.

"It's not right," Merlin said aloud, so Morgause could know he was on her side.

For a moment, she continued to stare into the fire. Then she turned a small smile his way. "It's good to know I can count on you, Merlin. As I always have."

Merlin nodded. "We're friends. And they…what they did to us was wrong. What _she_ did to you," he emphasized.

Morgause's smile widened a bit. "I'm glad you think so." She shook her head. "I've felt terrible for this, but…for a long time I've thought that the prince was getting darker. He was turning his back on magic. I feared he would lead Camelot into a darker age and torment the innocent people of the kingdom." Merlin frowned. "This attack proved my fears. As much as I cared for the prince, we cannot let him continue this way. We must stop him."

She stared deep into Merlin's eyes, and he felt he could not look away if his life depended on it.

"Even if it means killing him."

…

…

"Gaius!" Arthur called as he strolled into the physician's chambers like he owned them. He sort of did, he supposed. "I need your help with some magical business," he said in a much quieter, more conspiratorial tone.

Gaius looked up from where he was preparing some form of tonic or another. "Me? What for, sire?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. "Why not Merlin?"

Arthur settled a very serious gaze on the old man. "Because Morgause kidnapped Merlin over two hours ago. Didn't you hear the bells?"

The tonic hit the floor. "What?"

A nod from the prince. "I cannot just stay put while Morgause has Merlin," he said. "Morgana and I were talking about what happened in the great hall when Morgause attacked. She thinks she remembers the spell Morgause cast but we need you to tell us what it does."

"Does Morgana not know?" Gaius asked.

"Unfortunately…," Arthur trailed off.

Gaius nodded and moved to his smallest bookshelf. Pulling a book off the shelf, he set it on his worktable and looked to Arthur. "What was the spell?"

Arthur shut his eyes, trying to remember the pronunciation. "Insegle ingermyd…no. Ingemynd. Insengl maybe," he corrected, opening his eyes. Gaius's eyes were wide and Arthur frowned. "Do you know what it does?"

"I'm surprised Morgana didn't know," Gaius admitted, flipping through his book rapidly. "I don't know what the spell does, but the word 'mynd' is a word of the Old Religion. It's used when talking about memory or consciousness. I'll do some research, try to find a spell like the one you mentioned."

"Thank you, Gaius." He smirked. "We may not be able to find Morgause, but we can still outsmart her."

…

…

When Gwen came to check on Arthur a little over four hours later, she found his chamber doors open and the sound of metal upon metal coming from inside. Peeking in, she saw Arthur fighting to put on his own armor.

"What are you doing?" she asked, stepping into the room.

Arthur dropped his arms to his side. Luckily, it seemed he'd just finished fitting his armor on, because it didn't fall loose at all. "Gwen," he let out, turning to face her. He looked really guilty, like a child caught skipping his lessons.

Gwen narrowed her eyes in thought. "Where were you planning to go? To look for Morgause?" she asked, worry tinting her voice. Arthur merely set his jaw and didn't speak. "You know she's too dangerous to face alone, and all your knights are already out searching. You cannot go alone."

Arthur turned to face his bare hearth. "I can't just sit here and wait," he said definitively. "I know finding Morgause is next to impossible. We searched for an entire year and never found where she was living," he admitted. Turning to grab Excalibur from the table beside him, Arthur frowned. "But maybe if I ride out, unguarded…she'll come to me."

Gwen frowned and took several steps until she was next to Arthur. "Arthur, that's crazy."

"I've done far more dangerous things before in my life, and lived to tell the tale. I think I can handle saving Merlin," he assured her with a smile that was only half as cocky as he usually would have worn it.

Gwen lifted her right hand to touch the armor on Arthur's left arm. He kept his eyes on her face. "I want to tell you to stay. We've already lost Merlin. I don't want to lose you too," she said, sounding on the verge of tears. She took a moment to breathe. "But…But I know that he would do the same for you, and that Camelot will not be the same without him. So please….," she took a half step closer so that they were nearly chest to chest, "just be careful."

Arthur nodded. "I will," he promised. "And I'll come back with Merlin."

Gwen stayed in the room as Arthur sheathed his sword and walked out. She looked around the large room, at the reds all around, and prayed that Arthur lived.

…

…

The forest was quiet around him. There was little bird song, and little wind, to mask any noise made by another person or animal. Still, the only outside noise Arthur heard was his own horse's hoof steps. He'd been riding for hours now with no sign of Morgause anywhere.

Just when he was beginning to think this had been a vain idea, that Morgause didn't even know he was out by himself, he got a rude confirmation. Arthur was thrown backwards off his horse, landing hard on the ground and grunting in pain. When he pushed himself up, he saw Morgause standing next to his horse. She gave a wicked smile and then smacked the horse, hard. It whinnied and took off into the woods.

"Morgause," Arthur ground out, jumping to his feet. "I knew you would come for me."

She gave a pitiless laugh. "You would have found me in Camelot had you waited but one more day."

"It is better to face you here, away from innocent people," Arthur said, pulling Excalibur and training it on Morgause. "Now tell me: where is Merlin?"

There was an almost bemused smile on her face. "Where is Merlin?" she asked, as if he were a child. "Merlin is right where he needs to be."

If she wouldn't tell him where Merlin was, then Arthur would have to force it out of her. With a frown, Arthur ran at the witch. She'd bested him once with a sword, but he trained every day. Unless she cheated with magic, he could beat her.

Then he was flying backwards into a tree, with no move at all from Morgause. His head spun but he heard a panting voice say, "You shouldn't get so far ahead of me like that."

"Merlin?" he asked when his head cleared.

It _was_ Merlin. He was standing next to Morgause with the sort of concerned look he usually reserved for when Arthur got knocked down during knight's training. At Arthur's call, he turned and looked at the prince. At first he seemed confused and then he glared. Arthur's eyebrows drew together. What?

"As you can see, Merlin is right where he belongs," Morgause said in a strong voice. "With his own kind. And he will stand against you, on the side of magic users everywhere."

The way she said that, announcing it so boldly as if to dare a rebuke...She couldn't know that Arthur knew about Merlin's magic. Arthur pushed himself up, one hand on the tree for extra support and one hand clasped around the hilt of Excalibur.

"Merlin," he addressed his servant. "You're alright. But why are you siding with her? After-"

"Why wouldn't I side with her?" Merlin interrupted, standing taller. "You've treated me like dirt my entire time in Camelot. You never showed any gratitude for any of the work I've done for you." There was a hurt look in his eyes, and it made Arthur's chest contract. Did Merlin really feel this horribly about his time in Camelot? "I would have died if I stayed in Camelot any longer."

"What?" Arthur shook his head. "Merlin, don't be an idiot. You-"

"I am _not_ an idiot!" Merlin shouted. Arthur half expected an accompanying blast of magic, but it didn't come.

The prince took a step away from the tree, towards Merlin. If he could just talk to Merlin, he could fix this. He hadn't known about the magic before, so of course he treated Merlin like a servant. And actually, he treated Merlin much better than many lords treated their servants. Surely Merlin understood how much their friendship meant to Arthur?

He never got the chance to open his mouth. As soon as he was away from the tree, Morgause sent him flying back down the road, rolling in the dirt. He groaned, sending leaves and dust scattering away from his mouth.

Morgause knelt beside him. "Does it hurt?" she asked in a cruel whisper. "I do not know what words you spoke to my sister to trick her to your side, but know that I will soon reclaim her loyalties. I only hope that you feel the same pain I felt, knowing that your precious Merlin has sided with me instead of you."

Had he sided with Morgause? That certainly seemed to be the case. But it had to be a spell of some sort. Merlin had declared his undying loyalty to Arthur time and again. Simple words couldn't erase all that, could they?

Arthur jumped up, swinging Excalibur at the blonde woman beside him. His hit never landed. A vine came out of nowhere and wrapped around both of Arthur's wrists, pulling his arms back and away from Morgause. They dragged him to a tree, slamming his back into it roughly, and then tied him up. Vines wrapped around the tree, securing his legs and torso to the bark as well as his arms.

Morgause gave a smile, though there was no gratitude or happiness in it, to Merlin. Arthur watched his servant, standing in the same place he'd always been. Merlin nodded to Morgause and then focused on Arthur, where their eyes caught one another, and stopped. Arthur didn't know what Merlin saw in his expression, but he hoped it would break whatever spell Morgause had placed on him.

Spell. 'mynd'. Mind.

Exactly! Oh, Arthur should have seen this coming! Morgause had done something to Merlin's mind, somehow switching their places in his heart. Now Arthur was the terrible enemy and Morgause was the one who commanded his complete loyalty.

"Morgause," Arthur said, turning to the witch again. "You cannot hope to succeed! Not even by use of wicked magic. That spell-"

The blonde witch took the two steps between them and grabbed Arthur by the neck, just tight enough to stop his words. "When you are gone, Arthur Pendragon," she sneered his name and Merlin's eyes opened just a bit wider, "you and your terrible father…Only then can magic reclaim its rightful place. Only then can magic users live in peace and do as they please."

Arthur glared at her as she took a half step back. "If that is what you believe then you had best kill me now, Morgause," he said challengingly. "Because I will never let you win. You can destroy all of Camelot, all of Albion, but as long as there is breath in my body, I will do everything in my power to stop you. You are a curse upon Albion. Letting magic users do as they please? You would have them bow in submission to you. I would sooner die then see that happen."

Morgause smirked at him. "As you wish, foolish prince." She stepped back again, away from Arthur, and lifted her right hand, her fingers splayed as if a net shot from her fingertips would engulf Arthur entirely. "Ábréotan!"

Arthur shut his eyes as Morgause's own eyes gleamed golden, waiting for the end. It would be abrupt, and he would likely not feel a thing, but still he knew the end was coming. So much for being king. So much for destiny.

"Nerung."

There was a sound like metal hitting metal, and the earth shook beneath Arthur's feet. He opened his eyes at Morgause's gasp, but she was looking to Merlin - Merlin, who had his hand raised with gold fading from his eyes.

"Merlin?" Arthur let out, surprised.

"Merlin, why did you do that?" Morgause asked, her tone one of barely concealed anger.

Without a word, Merlin hurried over to stand between Arthur and Morgause. He shook his head. "This isn't right." He glanced back at Arthur, still pinned to the tree, and then faced forward again. "This isn't right."

"What is not right about this? He has persecuted our kind. There is no redemption for the Pendragon line. The only choice we have is-"

"To kill him?" Merlin interrupted. He shook his head again. "I don't think so. I mean, I...I don't remember. He made sure I can't."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. He'd done what?

"But you said...You said to kill him if there was no other way. And there has to be another way," Merlin continued. "I..." He took a deep breath. "I look at him and I see...He's kind. He's confused."

Morgause glared. "After all he's done," she half-spat out. "After everything you've been through-!"

"I don't care!" Merlin shouted to cut her off. She shut her mouth but kept her glare. "Really I don't." Merlin dropped his arm. "I don't even remember it, and it doesn't matter. I know you told me he's bad…but he's still human. Humans can change. If he's gone wrong, then we need to show him what's right."

He was using that voice that he only used during particularly inspirational speeches before death defying situations. It was the voice that always brought Arthur such hope, even in the darkest of times, and it was having that effect on the prince now. He hadn't lost Merlin. No matter Morgause's spell, Merlin was still Merlin.

"But…," Merlin turned a bit so he could look at Arthur again. He stared into Arthur's eyes, which were wide and open. "He's not bad at all." He looked back at Morgause. "When I think of him, even though I can't remember him…I know this is where I'm meant to be."

"Merlin," Arthur breathed out, feeling a weight leave his chest.

Morgause looked livid. Merlin frowned. "And when I look at you…Morgause," he said softly, sadly, "I see only darkness." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. I may not remember the bad things he has done, but I also don't remember anything about you. I can't…trust you. My place is with Arthur."

Morgause took a step backward. Then she threw her arm out fast and said, "Getyrfan!"

A white shot of light leapt from Morgause's hand and rushed toward Merlin. Merlin held up his hand. "Nerung!"

This time it sounded like a sword on another sword. Morgause threw her arm out again and again, more bursts of light flying for Merlin. But he held his arm out like he wore a shield and blocked each attack with his own spell. Then Morgause stopped abruptly. The forest was silent around them, jarring to their ears after all the noise. The witch stared at Merlin for a long moment, then grimaced.

"I suppose I shall have to find another way to rid the world of the Pendragons," she said like a curse. "Merlin, I hope you know which side you have chosen." Then she turned and took off into the trees.

Merlin immediately ran after her. Arthur made to follow as well but the vines kept him in place.

"MERLIN!" he shouted.

The dark haired male stopped just as he stepped into the bushes. Actually, he floundered and fell into the underbrush, but it amounted to the same thing. He jumped back up immediately, but Morgause was already out of sight. Merlin looked around frantically for a few moments but it was no use: she had pulled another vanishing act. When he looked back at Arthur, there was hesitation in his expression.

"Let me out of these, would you?" Arthur asked, and though he tried to make his tone softer than usual it was still more of a demand than a request.

Merlin let out a breath of air saying "Oh, right" and took a few steps back onto the road. He waved his hand toward Arthur, his eyes flashing golden, and the vines retreated into the brush. Arthur stumbled one step forward before he caught himself and stood straight. Then he turned to Merlin, who had his head lowered.

"I am so sorry, my lord," Merlin said. "If you'll forgive me, I'd like to help you protect the kingdom again."

Arthur watched his servant for a few moments but Merlin didn't move. He just stood there, awaiting Arthur's decision. It made something in Arthur's gut clench.

"Who are you?" he half-asked, half-demanded.

Merlin jolted and looked up. "Um...I..."

Arthur put his hands on his hips in a very princely pose. "My manservant, Merlin, is the most annoying, brash, fool of a man that I have ever met. He never lowers his eyes to me unless other lords are present."

Merlin flinched back a step. "Sorry." Why was he apologizing so sincerely?! "I…I don't remember you. I don't know who I am either," he explained.

So Merlin really didn't remember him. Arthur frowned. It seemed fate was playing with them. But Merlin kept his eyes on Arthur's face this time, and that made Arthur feel better, a little at least. Merlin was still Merlin, he reminded himself, though it felt a bit like losing him anyway.

"I don't believe what Morgause told me was true but…I don't have any idea what I'm supposed to do now," Merlin admitted.

Arthur smirked. "Well, you're _supposed_ to do exactly as I say. But you're more the 'do what you want' kind of servant. You make more mistakes than generally accepted, but it's usually while you're trying to do right and you're always so likable that no one holds it against you," he explained. "I'll tell you a better story of who you are later…" He looked around, but could neither hear nor see Morgause anywhere nearby. He made sure Excalibur was held tight in his hand just in case. "But right now I'd like to take you to see Gaius, and maybe Morgana. Maybe they can fix your memory."

Merlin let out a relieved breath. "Oh, thank you."

…

…

The door to Merlin's bedroom shut quietly. Gaius looked from the wood of the door to Arthur's pensive face.

"I'm sorry, Arthur," he apologized.

Arthur blinked and focused on the physician. "It's alright," he said, though it was obviously a lie. He looked at the door again. "At least we got him back."

Gaius frowned deeply. It wasn't enough. He'd found the spell Morgause had cast on Merlin in one of Merlin's own magic books. The spell sealed the memories of a person away, leaving them as a blank slate. To Gaius' distress, there had been no reversal spell, but even if there had been one, he wouldn't have attempted it. His magic was so spotty these days that he might make it worse rather than better.

"He saved my life, Gaius," Arthur interrupted the old man's thoughts. "Morgause told him I was the enemy, had him fight against me, but in the end he saved me instead." Arthur turned his gaze to Gaius, looking only the slightest bit amazed, but it was enough.

Gaius gave a small smile. "Since Merlin arrived in Camelot, all he has done is serve and protect you, my lord. The greatest truth of his life is his destiny with you. Even when things seemed to be falling to pieces, that was the one thing he could keep believing in. And besides all that, he is a gentle soul, a good man. I'm not surprised he chose you over Morgause."

Arthur took a deep breath. "I suppose you're right," he admitted.

…

…

Merlin let out a deep sigh and laid down in bed, hugging himself lightly. Talking to that old man, Gaius, had only confirmed Merlin's thoughts and fears.

Arthur had never ordered Merlin's memory erased. Morgana hadn't been involved. There was no spell to reverse it that they knew. He'd lost his entire life to one vengeful witch.

Still, risking his life to protect the future king? Merlin didn't think that was too bad. Losing his life to help a friend? He could definitely accept that. It might just...take some time.

He could hear Gaius and Arthur talking in the other room, but tried to ignore them. Instead, he stared at the wall in front of him. That didn't do much for his thoughts though. The wall was bland and boring. It didn't offer him any answers or respite.

"There has to be something," he murmured. There had to be some way to get his memories back. It just felt...like there was so much he used to know that was too important to forget.

They had all looked through Merlin's magic book, hidden among other trinkets proving this was definitely his home, but had come up empty handed. None of Gaius's meager spells had had any effect, but the old man had warned that his magic was weak and unlikely to do much. Arthur had no magic and couldn't help except to tell Gaius what had transpired in the woods. There wasn't a book in the masses in Gaius's chambers that had a spell to reverse this. Still...There had to be some way...

"Remember," he said like an order.

The blank wall stared back.

Merlin gave a heavy, frustrated sigh and pushed up off the bed. He spun in a circle, as if debating which way to pace, and then went to the window. He opened it and looked outside. The whole of Camelot was spread out before him, below him. The lights from the late night market and the fires in people's hearths made Merlin feel warm inside. Without a doubt, he knew this was his city. He belonged here.

He frowned. "Remember," he ordered himself, more forcefully this time. He leaned his head on his crossed arms and stared at the city, focused on the tiny people moving about in the streets. " _Remember_."

There was a rumbling in his head, like a wheezy breath mixed with thunder, and then " _Merlin_ ," a voice said, exasperated.

Merlin gasped, clutched his head, and looked around his bedroom. Who said that?! But there was no one there. He was alone. Only the soft sounds of Gaius and Arthur talking drifted through the air to him. And then Merlin understood. He wasn't sure what exactly he suddenly understood, but the word escaped him before he had even thought it.

"Ingemynde," he whispered, and looked out the window again. His eyes focused far beyond Camelot's walls, on something he couldn't actually see. The words breathed out of him, "árǽfan ingemynde."

He heard the faintest jingle of noise, and then power rushed through him. Merlin gasped, the force of the magic coursing through his veins knocking him backwards onto the floor with a soft _thump_. He didn't even try to get up. Every muscle in his body was tight. He couldn't move if he wanted to. There was a roaring in his ears like a waterfall but a dozen times worse. It hurt. Everything hurt.

_"I could never have a friend that could be such an ass."_

_"Nor I one who could be so stupid."_

_"I know I'm just a servant, and my word doesn't count for anything...but I wouldn't lie to you."_

_"Get some rest."_

_"Arthur...Thank you."_

_"You show him...the most extraordinary loyalty...Beyond the line of duty."_

_"I just didn't fit in anymore. I wanted to find somewhere that I did."_

_"Had any luck?"_

_"I'm glad you're here, Merlin."_

_"I willingly give my life for Arthur's."_

_"I'm happy to be your servant, until the day I die."_

_"How do I express my feelings?"_

_"Ah. Right. Feelings...girls..."_

_"We could dress him like a woman!"_

_"I don't know what it is to have a son."_

_"Nor I a father."_

_"I've traveled to many places, Merlin!"_

_"Not the Perilous Lands. I know that...There aren't any taverns."_

_"I told you it was wretched."_

_"...for Arthur…for the Once and Future King of all Albion, it was a piece of cake."_

_"Remind me why you're here again, Merlin?"_

_"Because you'd be lost without me."_

_"You're a great sorcerer, Merlin. I know you'll do your best."_

_"I present this sword to you, Arthur Pendragon, and hope that you will use it for the good of your people and that of all Albion…and I pledge my loyalty to you until the end of my days. All my skills are yours to use as you wish, forever. No matter what the future may hold, I will stand by your side evermore, for all eternity…for as long as you will have me."_

All at once, every last drop of tension vanished from Merlin's body. He was left gasping on his bedroom floor, his head spinning, unable to even open his eyes. Within moments, though, he began to feel more like his usual self.

Usual self.

Merlin's eyes snapped open. He remembered! He remembered everything! A bright smile took over his face in an instant, and he jumped to his feet. His equilibrium wasn't quite back yet though, and he had to catch hold of the wall to remain upright. As soon as he was able, Merlin hurried to his bedroom door, through which he could still hear Arthur's voice.

…

…

The Isle of the Blessed was a seemingly empty place, but a lone woman stood by a raised stone basin, staring into the water within. She watched as Merlin exited his room. She saw Arthur's raised eyebrows and surprised expressions. She listened as they, and Gaius, spoke to each other with smiles growing on their faces. She saw the future king give in and wrap his servant in a jubilant hug.

With a small, almost insignificant, wave of her hand, the images in the water shifted. Now she saw Morgause riding her horse hard through the woods. Her expression was enraged, her body tense. Tethella smiled.

"I did say I would enjoy watching you try, did I not?" she said conversationally. "You are powerful, Morgause…but he is Emrys. You see, I did not lie to you. I have not allied myself with Arthur." She smiled. "I have chosen to side with Merlin."

…

…

tbc…

...

...

**Next Time: Merlin's Return**

_An old friend returns and Camelot is besieged by creatures half human and half bird. Coincidence? When the knights ride out to face this new threat, Merlin finds that his magic is useless! And as the sun sets, there's a flash of silver in the sunlight._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Insegl ingemynd = seal memories
> 
> Ábréotan = to destroy
> 
> Nerung = guard, protection
> 
> Getyrfan = to strike
> 
> Ingemynde = memories, remembered, in mind
> 
> árǽfan ingemynde = set free memories
> 
> …
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please review and let me know what you liked or didn't like!
> 
> And it's like OMG am I psychic or something? I wrote this TWO WEEKS before 4x06's preview even showed. Granted, edits by my betas didn't happen on it until this year, but the majority of it was written and done before 4x06.


	3. Merlin's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend returns and Camelot is besieged by creatures half human and half bird. Coincidence? When the knights ride out to face this new threat, Merlin finds that his magic is useless! And as the sun sets, there's a flash of silver in the sunlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg I am so sorry! School started back up yesterday and I was grading a bunch of stuff and I guess I totally forgot!

The clatter of swords was the first sound anyone near the knight's training grounds would hear, but the clatter did not come from the knights. In fact, the knights had been told to leave the area for the next several hours, or else. Previous bad experiences kept even the most disgruntled knight away. The sound came, instead, from two lonely swords.

"Come on, Merlin," Arthur said in a disapproving tone. "Left. Right. Right. Forward."

"Left. Right…R-right. Ah. Forwa-!" Merlin yelped as he fell backward over his own feet and landed hard in the dirt. He let his sword drop uselessly to the ground beside him.

He felt like he was swimming in his own sweat. Arthur had been drilling him for two hours already and it was just past mid-day. The armor was stifling! Merlin took in deep gulps of air during the momentary pause.

Arthur stood over him with a frown on his face. He allowed Merlin five seconds reprieve. "Alright. Up. Let's go."

Merlin glared balefully up at his prince. "Are you serious?"

Arthur nodded and used his sword to motion to Merlin to get up. "Yes. I can't be worrying about you in every fight and, frankly, you're still absolute rubbish with a sword, despite my best efforts. Now get up," he ordered.

With a huff of breath, Merlin pushed himself up until he was seated. Arthur held out a hand and Merlin took it thankfully. Arthur pulled him to his feet and then retrieved Merlin's sword for him. Handing it back to his servant, he gave a brief nod.

The prince held his sword up in front of him. Excalibur gleamed in the light, and Merlin almost thought it looked happy in Arthur's hands.

"Once more, hold your sword like this," Arthur instructed, turning his sword so Merlin could see where he held the hilt. "Honestly, you would think after four years you'd know something this simple."

Merlin glared again. He grasped his sword in mimic to Arthur's. "I can do that," he insisted indignantly. "I'm not an idiot."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "As we've established," he said flippantly. He pulled his sword back, bending a bit at the knees into a battle stance. "Now parry."

Without any more warning, Arthur lunged forward. He swung his sword in from the right. Merlin's eyes widened but he managed to pull his sword up in time to catch Arthur's blade. Arthur kept pressing forward, trying to knock Merlin's sword away, but Merlin leaned into the action and threw Arthur back instead.

"Good," Arthur complimented, "Now do that again. Then attack."

The golden haired prince thrust forward. Merlin dodged to the side, not bothering to try and parry that move. Arthur immediately turned and attacked with a swing at Merlin's right side. Merlin lifted his own sword and met the attack head on. Merlin shoved forward, actually forcing Arthur to back up a step or face cutting himself on his own sword. With one great shove, Merlin knocked Arthur's sword wide. He then used Arthur's brief moment of unbalance to attack. He lifted his arms and brought his sword down fast.

Arthur watched as Merlin's sword stopped a hair from the top of his head, and then Merlin pulled back. The prince grinned. "See, I knew you could do it."

Merlin frowned. "Only because you're going easy on me." He let out a heavy sigh and dropped to the ground. "Let's just admit that I'll never be good with a sword."

"On the contrary," Arthur disagreed, sheathing Excalibur and placing his hands on his hips as he stared down at Merlin. "You're already better than half the men who come to Camelot trying to be knights."

Which wasn't a lie. A lot of noblemen's sons were pompous lay-a-bouts who could barely hold a sword, but their fathers wanted them to do something important with their lives so they all sent them to Camelot to be knights. Arthur enjoyed laying those men out on the ground. And even some of the knights Arthur trained daily couldn't stop a sword with as much precision as Merlin could. They would have cut Arthur just now.

He shook his head. "But you'll never be as skilled as I am," he added, to make sure Merlin didn't get a big head.

Merlin rolled his shoulders and winced. "Of course I'll never be that good," he said through the motion, "you've got a sword that doesn't let you lose." He lowered his head, stretching his neck. He felt so sore!

Arthur opened his mouth to retort, but paused. That was true. As long as he held Excalibur in his hand and had the will to carry on, he couldn't really be defeated. He wondered if he could get stabbed through the stomach and live…not that he was tempted to test it out though. Arthur shook his head once to clear it.

"Well, couldn't you just use magic to be a good swordsman?" Merlin's head shot up, his eyes wide. "I'm sure there's a spell somewhere in those books of-"

"Shh!" Merlin interrupted loudly. He pushed himself to his feet quicker than Arthur had ever seen him do…pretty much anything. Once eye level with the prince, he glared. "Are you trying to get me killed?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? My father already accepts you as my 'destined sorcerer,' so what are you worried about?"

Merlin gave him a withering look. "I doubt the kingdom would understand if the king gave clemency for one man, and then killed another for the same crime," he explained quietly.

As the logic of Merlin's words dawned on Arthur, his eyes widened a mite and he stepped back from Merlin. "I see your point," he admitted. "But it still stands to reason that you could be a better swordsman _if you wanted to be_ ," he insisted conspiratorially. With a nod to Merlin's sword, Arthur said, "In any case, I have other duties to attend to besides teaching my manservant to use a sword. So keep practicing on your own for another thirty minutes." He sheathed Excalibur. "After that, make sure to take a bath. I don't want you stinking up the whole castle. Also, walk my dogs and make sure all my hunting equipment is in working order. We're going on a hunt tomorrow, _weather permitting_."

The last two words were said in another somewhat conspiratorial way, and Merlin realized Arthur was expecting him to have some sort of control over the weather. What?

Merlin watched the prince walk off the field and out of sight with a gaping mouth. He threw his arms out to the side and then let them fall back to his sides. "And I wondered why I kept my secret from him for so long," he said to himself with a shake of his head before bending to pick up his sword. Heavens knew Arthur would just _know_ if Merlin skipped out on the next half an hour of training, even with no one around to watch him. "He's such a dollop."

…

…

"Merlin!" Gaius's voice pulled him from sleep. "Come here!"

His muscles were still sore from the training day followed by a full day of chasing after Arthur while he hunted, but Gaius sounded pleased and the sun was shining lightly through his window anyway, so Merlin pushed himself up and out of bed. He was still in his nightclothes, but Gaius wouldn't call him out without warning if there was someone here who would care.

Almost as soon as his bedroom door opened, Merlin found himself on his back with a chest full of feathers. "Oof!"

"Ki ki ki ki ki ki kiii!"

Merlin sat up, the bird falling to his lap instead, and beamed. "Archimedes?" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Archie let out a pleased trill. "Missed you!" He preened as Merlin pet his head. "Kii..." His voice was a note deeper than it had been the last time he was in town. That was probably because birds age faster than humans.

Merlin got up, carrying Archimedes on his arm, and moved to sit at the table. Once he was seated, Archie hopped up to his shoulder and nuzzled against his hair. Merlin laughed.

"I missed you too, Archie," Merlin said with a broad smile.

Gaius placed a bowl of oatmeal in front of Merlin and sat down across from his ward with his own bowl. "He woke me up this morning before the sun was even up," the old man explained.

Archimedes ducked his head under a wing, embarrassed, but did not speak. Gaius shook his head.

"I'm not angry, Archimedes," he said. "But next time you visit, a more sunlit hour would be appreciated."

The 'kii' Archie let out then was a joyful sound, knowing he was allowed to come back. The falcon hopped from Merlin's shoulder to the table and then over to Gaius. He gave Gaius one head rub against his arm before settling on the table between the two men.

Merlin smiled for a few moments, contentedly eating his oatmeal mush. Then he closed his eyes and sighed. "I have to go tend to Arthur," he complained.

"That is your job every day, as I recall," Gaius said in a sort of half teasing tone.

Merlin gave him a withering look. "But there's no telling how long Archie is going to be here this time. And I haven't seen him in months. "

"I'll be here when you get back," Archie assured him. "Lots to...talk about."

Merlin pet Archie on the head with another warm smile before continuing to eat his breakfast.

...

...

Arthur was having a strange morning.

First, Merlin had been on time to wake him up. Second, his breakfast had been perfectly warm, drink cold, with flowers on the tray. Third, Merlin had been humming as he cleaned Arthur's bedroom, practically bouncing and with a smile so wide Arthur legitimately feared it would break his face.

"What has you so sickeningly happy this morning?" Arthur asked as he popped a bit of milk soaked bread into his mouth.

Merlin shrugged, turning down the covers on the bed. "A friend is in town. I haven't seen him in awhile, so I'm happy he's here."

"A friend, hm?" Arthur asked, watching as Merlin moved to pick out Arthur's outfit for the day.

What friend did Merlin have that Arthur didn't know about? He was with Arthur very nearly every day. And a friend he hadn't seen in awhile? Someone from Ealdor perhaps? Except when they'd gone to help sort out that bandit problem, the only friend Merlin had seemed to have was Will and now, sadly, Will was gone. Not from Ealdor then.

Arthur had the patience to wait until he was done eating, then he couldn't stand it. "What friend?" he asked. He tried to sound blasé about it but the question came out sounding more curious than he would've liked.

Merlin smirked at him, picking up on it, and Arthur forced himself to look away so as to appear less interested. Merlin set a pair of boots on the floor next to where he'd set Arthur's outfit, then moved over to the table and sat down across from his master.

"You know," he began, failing as badly at being casual as Arthur had. There was a large grin on Merlin's face. "Maybe I should introduce you to him. You missed out last time he was in town."

Last time? Arthur shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together on the tabletop and frowning. "Is he a noble?"

That earned him a laugh. "Not nearly." Merlin's leg was bouncing under the table. "You don't have anything planned for awhile after knight's training today. How about I take you to meet him? He's staying with me and Gaius."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "If it stops you from jumping out of your own skin, then by all means, introduce me to your 'friend'," Arthur said, with air quotes.

If it also satiated his gnawing curiosity, that was just a bonus that he wasn't going to mention.

...

...

"Alright then. Prince Arthur of Camelot, meet Archimedes," Merlin announced with a grand wave of his hand.

Archimedes, his silver feathers catching the light from the high windows, let out a 'ki' in greeting and stood as tall as his little bird form allowed. Arthur blinked at the falcon for a few moments, uncomprehending.

"Merlin," he began, "are you honestly trying to tell me that the 'friend' you were so excited about...is a bird?"

"A Merlin, actually," Merlin corrected with a smug smile. When Arthur lifted an eyebrow, he explained, "Archimedes is a type of falcon called a Merlin."

Arthur sighed. "Of course he is." He crossed his arms over his chest. "Listen, Merlin, I've always known you were mentally deficient, but a bird isn't a person. I mean, I like my dogs well enough, but they aren't my friends. This pigeon-"

"Falcon."

"Right, this falcon-what?" Arthur jolted to an abrupt stop and stared with wide eyes at Archimedes. After a moment, obviously deciding he was confused, Arthur began looking around the room. "Is there someone else here?"

Merlin chuckled, Archimedes hiding his face under a wing while his little bird body shivered with his own silent laughter as well. "No, it's just me, you, and Archie. Who is beyond honored to meet you, right Archie?"

Archimedes nodded his head as Arthur's gaze landed on him again. "Right. Ki kii ki."

Arthur needed to sit down. Luckily there was a stool right next to him, so when he collapsed there was something other than the floor to catch him. He never took his eyes off the proud looking hunting bird standing on the table.

Merlin took the silence as opportunity to explain. "Somehow Archimedes has magic, even though he's a bird. That means he can speak English, but it's hard for him so he doesn't say too much. It's still amazing though."

"Kiiii. Merlin saved me," Archie acknowledged. "I want to return ki ki the favor."

Rubbing his hands over his face, Arthur took a deep breath. Merlin saved a bird. Of course he did. That was just who Merlin was. He saved a magical bird too, because that was _also_ who Merlin was. He attracted this kind of stuff. At least he was usually able to handle whatever that stuff was.

"Okay," Arthur let out, looking at Archie again. "Archimedes, you said?" Both Merlin and Archimedes nodded and they looked scarily similar. Arthur shook his head. "What kind of magic can you do?"

Archie's head moved up and down for a few moments before he made a sound. "Nature. Animals. I can...summon them."

"Summoning animals. Alright. That doesn't sound-," Arthur trailed off mid nod, remembering a case of wild animals running amok in the castle. "Wait. The fish in the stables? The birds? The _badgers_?" Archimedes looked to Merlin for help and Arthur massaged the bridge of his nose. "Ok ok, alright. Fine. It's fine," he repeated, shaking himself. "Just, tell me we aren't going to have a repeat of Nights with Morgana."

Last time, when Morgana had avoided her room for two weeks after the badger incident, she had wandered to Arthur's room in the middle of the night three times in the first week and twice in the second. All five times, she kept Arthur awake throughout the night, jumping at shadows and forcing him to tell her stories their nursemaids told them when they were little so they would go to sleep. He'd made half of it up because he couldn't remember the stories. Every time he'd made a particularly blatant lie, Morgana had glared at him, but overall she'd seemed to appreciate his attempts. Of course, then she fell asleep in his bed and Arthur couldn't use it until she woke up the next morning, refreshed, and left to her temporary chambers. It had been draining.

And Merlin, the cretin, was grinning like the cat that got the cream.

"I swear, Merlin, if we do, I'll send her to you this time. It's worse than a day in the stocks," he threatened his manservant.

Said manservant gave him an unimpressed look. "And how would you know, milord? Spend a lot of time in the stocks?"

"No, but it hasn't killed you yet," Arthur shot back, mimicking Merlin's tone.

Merlin scoffed. "Reciting fairytales for you sister isn't going to kill you."

"That's what you think," Arthur informed him darkly.

"I'm confused," Archimedes broke in.

Merlin reached out and pet the falcon gently on the head, running down its feathered back, but didn't explain. How did you explain the relationship between Morgana and Arthur anyway? Even before Morgause entered the picture, Merlin would've had a hard time coming up with a way to describe them.

"Tell me there aren't badgers hiding in my room," Arthur ordered of Merlin.

Merlin looked at Archimedes. It took the falcon a moment to catch on, but then he let out a shocked 'ki' and fluttered his wings. "No no no. No badgers. Just me. Ki kiiii ki ki. I control it better now."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. "You're as reassuring as Merlin," he said in a tone like a mix between a sigh and a groan.

Archimedes preened proudly, even though it hadn't been a compliment.

...

...

Only hours later, Arthur was in the lower town. The sun had begun to set but the town was far from sleepy. A group of six farmers had been attacked just outside the city walls and tales of what had attacked them traveled quickly to the castle.

"Gaius," Arthur said in greeting as he came upon where the older man and Merlin were bandaging the wounded men.

"Sire," Gaius replied with an inclination of his head, then kept spreading ointments on the man's wounds.

Arthur examined the man. There were deep cuts on his left arm and leg, and many smaller abrasions on the rest of him. His clothing was as roughed up as he was and his dirty face was scrunched up in pain. He wasn't moaning in pain, only wincing and gasping as Gaius carefully prodded the wounds while working. He was handling it better than some of the knights Arthur had known in his lifetime.

Arthur moved over to where Merlin was helping a separate man and knelt down by the older gentleman's head. He shared a brief look with Merlin. His manservant didn't look too grim so Arthur figured the old man was going to live.

"Sir," he greeted the man. His brown eyes took in Arthur with shock that overrode the pain he was obviously in. "I need you to confirm what it was that attacked you. An animal or beast?"

The farmer nodded roughly. "Yes, sire," he said, his voice sounding wrecked. "We thought they were...were women, just...standing just at the tree line. We called out to them but they...they only giggled and moved further into the trees. When we followed, they weren't women at all." He groaned and panted for a few moments when Merlin tied off the bandage around the worst of his wounds. "Women's faces and chests, yes. But no arms. No legs. No bodies."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked. He had heard bits of this before he came to investigate, but not all together. He had thought the story was just getting mixed up in the retelling but it seemed not. How could a creature just be a head and chest?

The old man was staring at Arthur but his gaze was distant. "They had wings instead of arms," he whispered. "Giant birds with human faces. Talons sharper than a new sword." His voice became wheezy near the end and Merlin placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you," the servant said. "Now rest, alright? Keep an eye on your bandages, and have them changed out in the morning, first thing. Don't do anything strenuous and if you need more medicines, send someone to Gaius."

Once the peasant had nodded and the elderly woman and younger lady nearby had also agreed, Merlin cast a look at Arthur and walked away from the family. Arthur also thanked the man and then followed. They walked just out of earshot of all the people gathered around and then stopped. When Merlin spoke, it was quiet and Arthur almost had to strain to hear him.

"I spoke to Gaius," he said. "He said the descriptions given by the men sound like a harpy."

"What's a harpy?" Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded toward the men Gaius was finishing up bandaging. "Exactly what they say, apparently. Giant birds with human faces and chests. A creature born from magic long ago, when a seer misused their gift and made the gods angry. They steal from men to get revenge."

"And this?" Arthur motioned toward the injured. "This was hardly stealing."

Merlin shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "One of them took his daughter to work in the fields today. The harpies took her during the attack," he whispered. When he next spoke it was in the slightly louder voice of before. "Gaius says harpies are known to attack and torture wicked men, as well. I don't think...I mean, I don't think these men are wicked. No one deserves this."

Arthur refused to sigh. So he had yet another magical malady to take care of. At least he had Merlin to help him take care of it. He said as much aloud and Merlin began to nod, but then Gaius walked up with a dismal shake of his head.

"I'm afraid not, sire."

Now Arthur frowned. "What do you mean?"

Gaius sighed. "The harpy is known for its connection to the afterlife and its ability to create sudden windstorms with a simple flap of its wings. They have magic themselves and are thus resistant to magic used against them." He paused just long enough to look from Arthur to Merlin. "Merlin's gifts will be of little use this time."

"What."

It wasn't even a question, just a soft exclamation from Merlin at this turn of events. Arthur had to agree. If the harpies were resistant to magic...

"How do we get rid of them then?" Arthur asked in a harsh whisper.

The look Gaius gave him was one usually reserved for particularly dimwitted children. Arthur didn't appreciate the implication. "I imagine a sharp sword kills many things."

...

...

"I'm coming with you."

Arthur let out a rough breath and turned to face the man standing behind him in the armory. "Merlin-"

"I'm coming with you," the dark haired male repeated.

Pelleas and Percival were watching them with interest as they clipped each other's armor on, while Urien at least had the decency to pretend not to listen in.

Arthur huffed. "You have no armor nor weapons. And even if I gave you a sword you wouldn't be able to use it."

Merlin puffed out his chest. "I'm a lot better than I used to be. Even Tristan complimented me once." The reminder of the prince they'd met made Arthur bristle and Merlin knew it, even if Arthur barely gave any outward reaction. "I could use a crossbow. I've been hunting with you plenty of times."

"And yet you've never fired a crossbow on any of those trips," Arthur pointed out.

Percival grinned and turned around to grab his sword, sliding it into the sheath around his waist. He had grown more muscular since their trip to the Fisher King and the other knights picked on him less. "It's hardly like the targets will be difficult to hit," he commented easily. "The farmers said the beasts were quite large."

Arthur shot Percival an annoyed look but the young knight barely seemed to care, just smiling with a shrug. However, his words seemed to open the discussion to the room at large.

"I heard he took on a dragon without armor once," Pelleas noted. "One of only three survivors too."

Instead of glaring at the peasant knight, Arthur sent his annoyance to the back of Leon's head, who was purposefully facing away. As the only knight to survive that attack, it had to be him that told Pelleas and the new knights. Arthur wouldn't have minded except that apparently all his new knights secretly wanted Merlin dead - since they wanted him to go up against magic beasts unprepared.

"He can borrow one of my swords," Urien added softly, holding out a blade.

Merlin accepted it with a smile, weighing the metal and giving it a small practice swing. It was lighter than Arthur's swords, not nearly as perfect as Excalibur, but it would do just fine. He beamed at Urien and then flipped to face Arthur with a challenging smirk.

With five sets of expectant eyes on him, Arthur gave a put upon sigh. "Fine. Fine," he acquiesced. "If you're that keen to die, go get your mail on at least."

Merlin gave Arthur a determined nod, suddenly serious, and rushed from the room.

"Don't run with a sword!" Arthur called uselessly after him.

The gathered knights chuckled softly. Leon walked over and gave Arthur a pat on the shoulder.

"He'll be fine," he assured Arthur. "We've gone up against worse odds than this and he's come out the other side fine."

But this time Merlin wouldn't have his magic to protect him, Arthur didn't say. He wasn't sure how much of their previous adventures turning out alright had been because of Merlin's magic, but he didn't want to test how much Merlin could endure in an unaided fight. Even with his magic he'd been wounded quite often. But Arthur couldn't raise these concerns with his knights because they couldn't know about the magic. If just one of them raised the alarm and word got back to Uther, even with Uther allowing Merlin to roam free at the moment...Merlin would likely be exiled or executed if his magic became common knowledge.

Arthur was beginning to understand why Merlin had kept quiet about his magic now, and to appreciate the stress caused by keeping that secret. God, everything would be so much easier if everyone knew why Merlin going into this battle was a bad idea. Then they wouldn't be pushing him to allow it.

Oh who was Arthur kidding, he thought as he finished readying himself for battle. Words – orders – had never stopped Merlin in the past, and Arthur was sure they wouldn't have stopped Merlin now. Merlin would have followed them anyway. He always did. At least this way Arthur knew to expect him, and he would have chainmail on and a sword, if nothing else.

...

...

"I'm coming with you!"

Merlin shrugged on his chainmail and then grabbed the tunic to go over it. Gwen had sewn it for him so he could wear Pendragon red instead of the bandit brown tunic that had come with it when he and Arthur had stolen the outfit on one of their many adventures. Arthur had thought to commission Merlin his own chainmail, but Gwen told him the bandit mail was already good, if in need of some minor repairs. Besides, it wouldn't be used often so it would work just fine. Of course Arthur had consented to the opinion of a blacksmith's daughter.

"No, Archimedes," he said before slipping the tunic over his head.

The falcon flapped his wings irritably. "You're fighting. I'm fighting."

Merlin looked at his friend fondly. "I'd love that, I would. But Archie, harpies are resistant to magic. I can still fight with a blade, but you're a bird."

"Falcon's can fight!" Archie protested childishly, feathers ruffled.

Merlin reached out to pet Archimedes but the bird dodged his hand and flew to sit on one of the boards in the roof. The sorcerer huffed up at him. "A harpy is bigger than a person. Could you fight a bird that big?"

"Kiiiii!" It was an angry sound.

Merlin sighed. "I just don't want you getting hurt, Archie. If there was a way you could help, I'd let you come, but there isn't. So please, just stay here and wait for me to come back, alright? And don't cause any trouble for Gaius because you're mad at me."

Archimedes let out another short cry of petulance and then flew to the highest possible board, facing away from Merlin. With another sigh, Merlin grabbed his borrowed sword from the bed and left the room.

"I won't be long. I promise."

Only when the door had shut behind him did Archimedes turn his head to look down into the room. He let out a sorrowful 'kiii' and hid his head under his wing.

...

...

It wasn't hard to find the harpies. All the knights had to do was ride into the forest near the city and the beasts found them instead. First they heard a pleasant giggling sound, like from a blushing maiden, and Pellinore pointed to where three ladies seemed to be watching them coyly from the trees to their right. When Sir Geraint drew his sword, however, the women's faces contorted angrily and all giggling abruptly ended.

There was a call like a large bird and then the knights were caught up in a strong wind. Merlin pulled his arm up over his mouth and nose to block the flying dust and squinted at where the harpies were. Except they weren't there.

Another brief bird call and then Geraint was gone, his horse barely stumbling to show anything had happened. The other knights called after him as the great bird carried him away into the trees and drew their own swords. Arthur was shouting orders but the wind was so loud Merlin could barely hear him.

Lowering his head to stare at the saddle horn, Merlin said, "Cól wind." His eyes flashed golden and, after a few seconds, the wind was noticeably calmer. He could hear Arthur positioning his men and readying for another attack while also sending two men off after Geraint. With a determined frown, Merlin made sure his mouth was still covered and repeated, "Cól wind."

This time the effect was instantaneous. The wind storm vanished in a puff, the dirt and leaves that had been swirling falling swiftly back to the ground, or onto the knights and their mounts.

"Bors, Gaheris, go!" Arthur shouted, too loud in the sudden quiet. The two knights in question were riding into the underbrush almost before he'd finished giving the order.

Arthur passed a glance toward Merlin while the rest of the knights looked off at the sound of another bird's cry. Merlin nodded at him and then shrugged. On the path ahead of Arthur, a harpy landed and smiled at them.

"Such strong men," the woman cooed. "So brave."

Another harpy landed behind the party. She looked nearly identical to the woman in front of them. "Courageous," she agreed with her sister harpy. "Headstrong."

Arthur lowered his sword a fraction and stared the harpy in front of them in the eyes. "Why are you attacking Camelot?"

There was a round of giggles from both harpies as well as from the trees around them. The knights tensed but Arthur did his best to appear unmoved.

"Handsome men," a voice from the trees said.

"So handsome," said another.

Seeing that the harpies weren't going to give him a straight answer, Arthur lifted his sword again. "Leave us in peace or we will be forced to kill you," he said in his best princely voice.

Merlin heard the flapping of wings and then something sharp dug into his shoulders, breaking through the chainmail. "Ahhh-AY!" He shouted as he was ripped backwards off his horse.

As he hit the ground and felt himself being dragged backward, Merlin heard more bird calls and wings flapping mixed in with the metallic sound of swords and the battle cries of the knights. Merlin twisted his body and felt his right shoulder fall loose from the harpy's talons. Taking the opportunity, Merlin grabbed the sword he'd borrowed and broke the leather holding the scabbard to his waist so he could swing at the beast that had him. His blow caught the harpy in the vulnerable human-like flesh of her chest and she released him with a shocked sound.

Merlin quickly rolled toward the trees where he would have at least a small amount of cover. His shoulders and upper arms ached but he was still able to fight and he had the sword. "Oh." Merlin quickly unsheathed the sword, tossing the broken leather carelessly into the trees. Then he used the tree behind him to stand up and held his sword up at the ready.

"Special man," the harpy hissed out angrily, a dark glare on her face. "Tricky man."

A second harpy landed next to the first and Merlin gulped. "Yeah, let's see how tricky I can be," he said. Then he dropped from the battle pose and took off into the trees just as the two harpies launched themselves at him.

The sound of the harpies crashing through the forest after him kept Merlin moving. He dodged around trees, trying to keep changing directions so the harpies couldn't follow as easily. Merlin also made sure to keep the sword close to him so it wouldn't catch on anything or cut him while he ran. A harpy wing caught Merlin in the back and he fell down, barely catching himself on his hands instead of crashing into the ground.

He kept moving, on all fours for a few steps until he regained enough balance to stand up. One of the harpies behind him let out a bird cry and a moment later a third harpy landed in front of Merlin, directly in his path.

"Ah," he let out, spinning and running in a different direction, barely missing colliding with the harpy.

As he ran he heard the trees splintering behind him from contact with the talons and bodies of the harpies, heard them calling out "Such a quick one" and "Tricky boy" in soothing voices even as they tried to kill him.

The sound of fighting grew louder as he ran and Merlin groaned. They'd run him back to the fight! He stopped just out of sight of the battle and flipped around. Three harpies were flying in and around the trees toward him, only a few feet away.

Holding up his hand, Merlin whispered, "Pyrtan" and his eyes flashed golden.

Merlin felt his magic rush toward the harpies and almost smiled, but then he felt it just...go out. The spell did nothing to his attackers. It just stopped. And now the bird women were upon him, all three pairs of talons reaching for him at once. Heart racing, Merlin lifted his sword and slashed out at them.

One of the women screeched and flew to the side, holding one her legs up near her body protectively. Her body and leg were bleeding impressively and she soon fell over on to her side, badly injured but not dead. The other two didn't stop and Merlin shut his eyes, tensing for the blow.

The harpies, not only in front of Merlin but from behind him at the main fight as well, let out angry cries all at once. The blow to Merlin never came. He heard the sound of many wings flapping and opened his eyes to find all three of the harpies forced away from him and fighting off birds.

Grouse, pheasants, quail, hawks, kites, doves, cuckoos, owls, swifts, woodpeckers, shrikes, jays, tits, larks, swallows, warblers, wrens, starlings, thrushes, sparrows, cardinals, falcons, _buzzards_. Merlin had never seen so many different kinds of birds at one time in one place focused on one thing, but here they were.

They were much smaller than the harpies they were attacking but their sheer numbers were overpowering their large prey. The noise alone was raucous and deafening, coming from in front of Merlin and from where the knights had been fighting. Every one of the birds was tweeting, cawing, hooting, squawking, chattering, chirping, honking, and yipping at once.

Sunlight through the trees caught the wings of one of the birds, a flash of silver in the evening sun. Merlin had never felt so much relief at something so small. All the adrenaline seemed to leave him at once and he fell to his knees in the leaves and dirt. His borrowed sword, blood staining the blade, dropped in the earth beside him just as the previously injured harpy stopped fighting back entirely and the birds attacking it moved on to other enemies. One down, many more to go.

"Archimedes," Merlin breathed out as he sat back on his legs, a smile quirking at his lips.

"Merlin?!"

"Here!" he called, knowing he sounded exhausted and not caring.

Already the angry cries of the harpies were dying out all around them. Archie had solved their problem. Like Merlin ignored Arthur and saved the day, so had his falcon friend. Merlin would probably never get on to Archie for breaking a rule ever again.

A few moments later, Arthur and Percival were with him. Their swords were stained with blood as well and they seemed relatively unharmed, though Arthur's mail was torn where it showed beneath his armor and there was a cut on his cheek and Percival's armor was bent oddly at the shoulder. Percival cursed and dropped to his knees beside Merlin.

"You're bleeding," he rushed out, reaching out to touch Merlin's right shoulder.

"What? Ow!" Merlin shouted when Percival applied pressure to where the harpy had grabbed him. Percival ignored him and applied more pressure while Arthur took up the job of doing the same to Merlin's other shoulder. "He-ey...!" he complained, voice breaking in pain. "He's bleeding too!" Merlin nodded toward Arthur. "Why aren't _you_ being brutally manhandled right now?"

"Because I'm the prince, Merlin." Merlin was about to snap a reply, because that was exactly why Arthur _should_ be on the receiving end of medical care, but was interrupted by a shout.

"Sire!" Bors practically shouted as he joined them, his dark skin even darker in the fading light, making him seem almost shadow-like. "The harpies are all but dead and Geraint needs medical attention, Lionel too," he said of his brother. He took in Merlin's own wounds and nodded toward where the birds were fighting only one opponent now. "We should take this opportunity to retreat."

Arthur looked at the two fallen bodies of the harpies around them and inclined his head in agreement. He pulled his hand away from Merlin, which possibly hurt more than the pressure had.

"We'll send a second party to check for survivors and burn the remains," he said. "How many did you count in total?"

"Ten," Percival spoke up. "One took Geraint at the beginning, three followed Merlin, the rest attacked the main group." He passed Merlin a smile. "You did well for an untrained man against three magical beasts."

Merlin grunted and glared. "I'm not untrained," he insisted.

Arthur hoisted Merlin to his feet, making both of them wince. "Percival, help the others gather the horses to head back. I've got Merlin."

Merlin was watching as some of the birds began to fly away now that there were so few harpies to fight. A silver winged falcon pulled away from the masses attacking the one remaining harpy nearby. Archimedes flapped in place, looking at Merlin. "Ki kiii!" he called, sounding happy, before diving back in to fight with the others.

...

...

Merlin refused to take time off to heal up. His wounds hurt when he lifted his arms, but he could do many of his daily tasks while keeping his arms down and those that he couldn't he had magic for. All he would need to do is make sure not to let anyone but Arthur see him doing his chores.

Arthur, after recounting what had happened to his father, had come to Gaius to see about a few cuts he'd received in the fight. The king had assumed the birds had been summoned by Merlin while the knights had begun spinning tales of how nature itself rose up against the evil invading the land, which the townsfolk were lapping up with excitement.

"My father actually had a message for you," the prince stated to Merlin while Gaius applied some sort of salve to the cuts.

"Oh?" Merlin asked, lying on the table where Gaius had bandaged him. 'Relaxing' as Gaius had ordered.

Now Arthur smirked. "He said you were as useless as he'd always imagined and maybe he should have you beheaded, if you wanted to die that much. Then I could find myself a competent sorcerer once I'm king."

"Mm." Sounded like something Arthur would say too. Like father like son, he supposed.

"You did do well today, Merlin," Arthur continued, voice softer this time. "You acted impetuously, and took on more than you could handle by far, but...good service deserves acknowledgement. So thank you. And thank your friend too."

The door to Gaius's chambers swung open before Merlin could respond and in walked Morgana, as if she owned the place. She ran her eyes over Arthur at the table, Gaius placing one last bandage on his arm, to Merlin all wrapped up in ointment and bandages on the table, and crossed her arms.

"Well now, I'm sorry I missed out on all the fun," she said, looking completely serious but with a slight tease to her voice. "Are you the least and worst wounded of the bunch?"

Arthur shook his head. "No." He nodded his thanks to Gaius and then stood to pull his shirt back on. "Geraint has a broken leg and a bad gash along his back. He'll be healing for months. Lionel will scar on his face and left arm from his wounds."

Not to mention they never had found the stolen girl, even with search parties scouring the forests. But Arthur had ordered them to keep searching until they found some sign of whether the child had lived or died and he knew his knights would not fail him.

Morgana frowned and uncrossed her arms. "I really wish I could have ridden out with you."

"We both know my father would never allow it," Arthur said. "He already regrets letting you learn to swordfight as a child. You're supposed to be his shining lady."

"Shining like the blade of a sword," Morgana answered.

Merlin saw Archimedes fly past the high window and cleared his throat. "Did you need anything else, Arthur?"

The prince lifted an eyebrow at him. "No. But if you insist on coming to work tomorrow, at least come late. Erik can wake me up for one day." It was an order, no matter how much it sounded like an option. Merlin nodded and Arthur made his way out of the room.

Gaius busied himself cleaning up from all the bandaging and healing he'd done in the past two hours. Morgana looked Merlin over once more, his chest bare but for the white cloth wrapped around his shoulders and upper arms.

Turning her gaze away she asked, "You're alright?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine," he said.

Morgana propped one hand on her hip and looked down her nose at him. "Good. You know you're part in the legends isn't over yet. You can't go getting yourself killed just now."

Merlin smiled. "I know." He pushed himself to a seated position with a grunt and waved her over.

When she was standing close enough, Merlin pulled her down into a hug. It was brief because it put a strain on Merlin's wounds, but Morgana looked baffled when it ended anyway.

"Wh-what?" she asked.

Merlin shrugged. "You looked worried and Arthur never accepts hugs." He yawned without meaning to while a slow grin spread over Morgana's face. "I'm gonna go rest for the night. I'll see you tomorrow?"

Shaking her head once, Morgana said, "Yes. I suppose you will." She backed up two steps before turning and walking to the door. Once there she paused and looked over her shoulder at Merlin. Already she had regained her usual regal manner. "Get well soon, Merlin. Arthur is insufferable without you."

Only once the door was shut did Archimedes zip into the room. He swooped around the roof twice before landing on the table. Unlike Merlin, Archie wasn't injured at all from the fight this afternoon.

"Merlin!" Archie cried, lifting and lowering his head like it would give him a better view of Merlin's wounds. "Hurt!"

Merlin lifted his hand just enough to run his fingers over Archie's head and down his back. It seemed to calm the falcon so he did it again. "I'll be fine. It's not as bad as it looks. My chainmail protected me more than I thought it would."

Archie ducked his head. "Ki ki. Should've been faster."

Gaius harrumphed. "You were fast enough," he said, finished cleaning up. "I imagine I would have been dressing more wounds and pronouncing more deaths if you had not helped out."

"He's right." Archie perked up considerably at that. Merlin smiled at his bird friend for a moment and then frowned at Gaius. "He has to leave again soon, doesn't he? Not tonight but...soon?"

"Well," Gaius sighed, "Uther is still king. The danger of someone discovering Archimedes and his gifts is still very high. Him leaving would probably be best. Sooner rather than later."

Archimedes hopped closer to Merlin and nuzzled his side. "No."

"No?" Merlin and Gaius asked at once.

"No," Archie repeated happily. "I helped?" Merlin nodded. "I'll help more. Ki ki ki kiii ki. Right? My magic is," he shook himself, ruffling his feathers briefly, "better. I want to stay."

Merlin looked from Archie to cast a hopeful look to Gaius. He cared about Archimedes and the little falcon had been a big help today. Having another creature of magic around would be a comfort if nothing else. Gaius looked at Merlin's face and let out a put upon sigh.

"If he's found, it's on you," the old man warned.

Merlin smiled. "Really?" he asked with anticipation.

Gaius nodded. "Yes. He can stay." Archie let out a triumphant 'ki!' but Gaius held up his hand to halt the sound. "To be safe, he should stay indoors except at night, and hunt away from Camelot's hunting parties." Both Merlin and Archie nodded in acceptance. "And do not practice your nature magic where any other humans can see. Merlin is trouble enough."

"Yes yes!" Archie agreed. He flapped his wings but didn't take off, hopping around the table and letting out the occasional 'ki' in joy. "Thank you!"

Gaius sighed again. "Just don't make me regret it."

Archimedes hopped up onto Merlin's legs and butted his head against Merlin's bare chest. Merlin pet the falcon's head, down to the silver feathers in his wings, and couldn't stop smiling. Life in Camelot just got a little bit brighter.

...

...

tbc

...

...

**Next Time: The Cup of Life**

_When a vision foretells of Camelot's ruin via an army lead by a one eyed giant man, Merlin and company will do anything to stop it. But Morgause has the Cup of Life and has created immortal men to fight on her behalf. When one glance in Balor's left eye means certain death, everyone will have to be extra careful while fighting for a way to survive. And there's a mysterious woman in town looking for Merlin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Cól wind = Calm wind
> 
> Pyrtan = Strike


	4. The Cup of Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a vision foretells of Camelot's ruin via an army lead by a one eyed giant man, Merlin and company will do anything to stop it. But Morgause has the Cup of Life and has created immortal men to fight on her behalf. When one glance in Balor's left eye means certain death, everyone will have to be extra careful while fighting for a way to survive. And there's a mysterious woman in town looking for Merlin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is based loosely on the legend of Balor of the Evil Eye (also known as Balor, the Irish Cyclops, though I've given him two eyes).

The corridor crowds were much thinner in the evenings than in the morning. Merlin liked carrying food trays more at night than during the day because he had to do less of a balancing act to avoid people. As Merlin hurried up the steps from the kitchen toward Arthur's bedroom, he hardly passed six other servants. The dinner of pheasant, berries, and wine smelled delicious and Merlin smiled. If he was lucky, Arthur would share the food with him, and that was always a treat.

Just as Merlin was imagining sticking a moist bit of pheasant into his mouth, something he shouldn't do because it got his hopes up when Arthur might not share tonight, he hit a wall so hard he nearly dropped the tray. Not a physical wall, a magic one.

Huge men were clawing their way out of the dirt and rocks and leaves that covered cave and forest floor alike. The largest of them was over ten feet tall with one blue eye and one orange eye. Morgause held out a large strip of cloth that was then tied around the giant man's head to cover his orange eye.

"Retrieve the chalice," a man's voice whispered urgently. "It cannot stay in the hands of evil."

Arthur slashed his sword across one of the giant's chests, but the wound had barely appeared before it had disappeared, no blood left behind. Pellinore jumped on the huge man's back and stabbed his sword swiftly down on the giant's spine while Arthur again attempted to gut it.

"How can I succeed?" a woman asked.

Giant blood dripped into a silver goblet rimmed in pearls. Morgause held it up with a triumphant smile.

"Find Emrys."

Gasping, Merlin leaned against the wall nearest to him. He only let himself rest for a moment before he rushed the rest of the way to Arthur's chambers, putting the adrenaline coursing through his veins to good use. Two minutes later he was shoving his way through the wooden doors.

Arthur and a dark haired older man looked over from their conversation. Merlin panted now that he'd stopped moving, his heart still racing in panic.

"Ah, Merlin," Arthur said, "I was beginning to wonder if you'd been kidnapped."

Merlin gulped a swallow and shook his head but said nothing, afraid to trust his mouth with words when they weren't alone in the room. The dark haired man turned back to Arthur with an easy smile.

"Well then, Arthur, I shall leave you to your dinner," he said. "We can always discuss this later."

Arthur nodded. "Of course. Good night, Uncle Agravaine."

When the door shut behind the older noble, Arthur frowned at Merlin. "Where's the wine?"

Merlin looked down at the tray and noticed that Arthur was right, the goblet and pitcher of wine were missing. He vaguely remembered hearing a clatter before he'd collapsed against that wall...

"I dropped it."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You dropped it," he repeated. "Of course you dropped it. And you didn't go back for more?" He took a seat at his small dining table and motioned for Merlin to give him the food.

Merlin frowned and set the tray down on the table with more force than necessary. "No. Arthur. Listen, this is important."

The hard tone of his voice caught Arthur's attention and he disregarded the food.

"I just had a vision," Merlin hissed out, glancing at the door briefly. "Morgause is sending an army to attack Camelot. An army of giants."

...

...

"Alright then, Merlin, now that we're all here, tell us what you saw," Arthur ordered with a wave of his hand to the two new occupants of his chambers, Morgana and Gaius. All of his magical consul in one room.

Merlin was sitting at the table now, with Arthur standing by the end of the bed and Morgana and Gaius between them near the door. The food on the tray was cold and barely touched.

"I saw giants crawl out of the ground near a cave," Merlin started. "Morgause had brought them back to life. She only talked to one of them though. He had different colored eyes - one blue and one orange."

"That would be Balor, of the Evil Eye," Gaius broke in solemnly, not hesitation. "If Morgause has really revived him and his men, then the entire kingdom could be in trouble."

"Who is Balor? What is so dangerous about him?" Arthur asked. What was Morgause planning this time?

Gaius let out a breath. "Balor is the king of a giant race so old that the only knowledge of them has been passed down through spoken stories. Legend says that he conquered many tribes of men in the ancient days. Then a seer told him he would die at the hands of his grandson. He locked his daughter away but that did not stop what had been foretold. His daughter gave birth and, when the child Lugh grew up, he slew his grandfather in battle. The Forest of Balor is the site of that ancient battle, long since healed from all the bloodshed." He pointed to his left eye. "Balor's left eye is said to have absorbed so much evil during his childhood that any who gaze into it, even for a moment, instantly die."

For a moment, no one spoke, each imagining the death this one giant could bring upon Camelot all on his own. Merlin was already running through every spell he knew, trying to remember if there was anything about giants or how to kill them in his books. Arthur was formulating how to attack an enemy you couldn't look at. Then Morgana clapped her hands together once.

"Before we all start planning for the worst, let's see what that might be. What else did you see, Merlin?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. Morgause was putting the giants' blood into this odd cup. She looked rather pleased about it too." The cup had looked so familiar, as if Merlin had seen it before.

Now Morgana sucked in a shocked breath. "The Cup of Life."

Merlin frowned. "Are you sure?"

The dark haired lady nodded. "Morgause has been searching for it since before I met her," she revealed quietly, as if she were afraid to be overheard. "The first priestesses of the Old Religion were so powerful that they created a cup that could give its wielder control over life and death."

Gaius glanced at Merlin but Merlin kept his eyes on Morgana. Merlin had once gained the power over life and death, without use of a cup, though he had refused to try it again in case he accidentally killed someone who was innocent.

"It fell into the hands of an evil warlord," Morgana continued, eyes distant like she was watching it happen as she spoke. "He poured a drop of blood from each of his soldiers into the cup and they became immortal. Only when the blood was emptied from the cup was his army defeated, and by then he had decimated the country. So the High Priestesses sent the cup away, hiding it with the same magic they used to create it. Morgause must have discovered where it was hidden."

"It looked familiar," Merlin added when Morgana was done. He shook his head with a dissatisfied frown. "I'm sure I've seen it before, but I can't remember where."

Arthur shook his head as well and took a step closer to the others. "It doesn't matter where it came from. What matters is that Morgause has it and is raising an army. We can safely assume the army will be immortal by the time it arrives in Camelot. So what we need to do is figure out how to find the cup and kill the giants, without looking at the king's eye."

"And without telling anyone else what we know," Morgana added. When Arthur opened his mouth to disagree she spoke right over him. "Unless you want to explain to your knights how we know about the cup and the giants at all."

Arthur frowned. Morgana was right. He could explain to his father that Merlin had had a vision and be reasonably certain no harm would come to Merlin from it, but how to explain it to his knights without revealing the magic to anyone else?

He snapped his fingers as an idea came to him. "I'll send out a scouting party, saying we've heard tale of marauders in the Forest of Balor. When they return with stories of giants, we can prepare to fight them properly and without question. Meanwhile, you three need to find out where Morgause has stashed that cup."

Morgana looked shocked for a moment before smiling proudly. "My my, Arthur, not so dense as I've always believed."

"No time for joking," Gaius interrupted a verbal fight before it could start, making Arthur visibly swallow his retort. "We have work to do."

...

...

As Morgana's dress slipped down her body, leaving her bare but for her thin slip, she took a deep breath. She turned around to face Gwen and placed her hands on her maid's shoulders to stop her from picking up the dress.

"Gwen," she said quietly. "Gwen I need you to do me a favor."

Eyebrows lowering in curiosity, Gwen said, "Of course. What can I do for you?"

"I'd like you to sleep in the antechamber for a few days," Morgana said.

Gwen frowned and Morgana pulled her hands away. "What's wrong? Are your nightmares returning?"

Guinevere, ever thoughtful. Morgana frowned to think she had ever caused this woman pain. She shook her head and gave her best friend a smile. "No. I just...I'd like to have you close, just in case I need you."

Gwen bent to pick up Morgana's dress from the floor and began to fold it, frowning at the fabric. "Honestly, what's bothering you?" she asked, looking up into Morgana's eyes.

There was a power in Gwen, not magic but of character. If given the proper chance, Gwen would make a wonderful noble. Morgana had dreamt, in the past, of Gwen as a queen. Sometimes of herself smiling at Gwen's side while her darker skinned friend proudly wore her crown. As a child Morgana had adored those dreams, imagining her and Gwen as equals. Later, with Morgause, Morgana had hated those dreams. She had resented Gwen for the future where she would wear a crown and Morgana did not. When she left Morgause, Morgana's dreams had shifted and she was once again happy to see Gwen as a respected advisor, a lady of the court in her own right.

Guinevere was strong of spirit. She cared about the people because she was one. She could understand them in a way Morgana and Arthur couldn't. Somehow Arthur could understand the peoples' needs, most of the time, but he didn't understand what their lives were like day by day. Gwen would help him with that.

Morgana smiled and held out her hand. Gwen set the clothing on a chair to the side and accepted it. The maid seemed only slightly surprised when Morgana pulled her into a hug, and it only took a moment for her to return the embrace.

"Everything is going to be fine," Morgana whispered near Gwen's ear. "I have a bad feeling, I'll admit, but if you stay I know it'll be okay." Pulling back enough to look at Gwen's face, she said, "So will you stay in the antechamber? For me?"

For a few moments, Gwen searched Morgana's face. Morgana tried to make her expression as open as possible without actually letting on how dangerous things could get in the next few days. She wasn't sure how successful she was, but whatever Gwen saw made her nod in compliance.

"Okay," the younger woman agreed. "Alright, I'll stay. If you need me to."

Morgana smiled and pulled Gwen into another quick hug. When she pulled back, she took the time to plant a quick peck on Gwen's cheek. "Thank you, Guinevere. I feel better already. Now, which gown should I wear to sleep?"

Blushing dark red, Gwen stuttered as she held up Morgana's two softest sleeping gowns and talked about how the weather was going to be that night and in the morning. And that was so much of what Gwen was that Morgana just smiled fondly at her while she spoke: strong and determined but soft and warm hearted.

"Gwen," Morgana said later, before Gwen could put out the last light for the night.

"Yes?"

"I hope we'll be friends for the rest of our lives."

Gwen smiled at her in a way one might smile at a child who'd had a nightmare. "Of course we will, Morgana," she assured her. "You're my best friend, and I'm not about to leave you any time soon."

"Good," Morgana agreed with a smirk. "Because it would take something world changing to make me let you go."

...

...

On the training field the next day, Arthur was short five knights. That didn't mean he was going easy on those not sent to check the forest of course. It was barely midday and Arthur himself was feeling tired from how hard he'd been pushing everyone. Merlin was on water duty not only for Arthur but for everyone, keeping them hydrated in the unusually hot morning air.

Arthur caught Sir Bedivere's strike on his own sword. He felt the grate of the two weapons against one another for a moment. Then he stepped forward and shoved Bedivere back, hard enough that Bedivere lost his grip on his sword. It fell with a dull thud into the grass and dirt at their feet. Arthur held his sword tip to Bedivere's chest for several seconds, watching how the knight's chest rose and fell with each breath. When he lowered his weapon, Bedivere bent to pick up his sword.

"Better," Arthur said, "but you're still weak. Your grip strength hasn't fully recovered from the tournament last month."

Bedivere lowered his head with a slight flush of shame. "My wounds are healed, sire. I simply need to train harder."

Arthur stepped forward and clapped the older knight on the shoulder once before stepping back again. "And right you will."

The cry of a bird of prey made Arthur lift his eyes to the sky. A falcon glided in low, wings catching the midday light and shining silver. Its head turned as it cast its gaze around the field. It let out another call and then swooped down among the knights, catching everyone's attention. Merlin stood up just in time for the bird to land on his arm. It grabbed bits of Merlin's hair in its beak and pulled, but to gain attention and not to harm.

Archimedes.

Merlin ran his free hand over Archimedes' body soothingly and the falcon switched to butting him with its head and making soft 'ki' noises.

"Merlin, are you a falconer?" Leon asked. He looked rightfully surprised. Leon had known Merlin almost as long as Arthur had and never heard of Merlin practicing falconry.

"Um," Merlin let out, at a loss.

Yes, Arthur wondered, how will you explain this one?

"That's really impressive!" Pelleas jumped in with a bright smile. "I bet that comes in handy on hunts."

Merlin's eyes were verging on wild as he couldn't come up with a way to talk his way out of this. It seemed it was Arthur's turn to save Merlin now. The prince rolled his eyes and stalked over to his servant.

"Not really," the prince stated, making sure his voice was properly annoyed, and grabbed Merlin's free shoulder. "Keep practicing amongst yourselves. Bedivere, work on your grip strength with a dummy."

Without waiting for an answer, Arthur walked Merlin off the field. Archimedes let out a short cry of surprise when his perch was suddenly moving, but just increased his grip on Merlin's shoulder a bit to stay put.

When they were out of sight from the knights, Arthur pushed Merlin into a shaded part of the castle wall and glared at him. "What is your bird doing flying in during training?" he hissed.

Merlin wasn't any calmer now than he'd been on the field, meaning he'd done something he thought Arthur wouldn't like. Archimedes answered for him.

"Giants!" the bird nearly shouted. Arthur made to clamp his beak shut with a hand but Archimedes snapped at him and he drew his hand back. "I flew over the forest, like you asked," he said to Merlin, who had given Archimedes his full attention.

Merlin nodded. "How many?"

Archimedes ruffled his wings and twisted his head back and forth, thinking. "Ki ki ki ki...Ah, maybe hundred." Now he let out a mournful sound into the underside of his right wing.

The breath was forced from Arthur like he'd been punched and he took a step back from the magical pair against the wall. One hundred giants? Could they fight against one hundred giants, even if they weren't immortal? He covered his eyes with his right hand and tried to think. Surely they had faced worse odds than this? The dragon? The knights of Medhir? Sigan?

A hand landed on Arthur's left shoulder and he lowered his right hand to look at Merlin. His servant, his sorcerer, was staring at him with confidence. He wasn't even saying anything, just standing there and offering comfort and strength through a small point of contact.

Right, he had Merlin. Camelot had defeated the dragon, and the knights, and Sigan, at least in part because Merlin was on their side. Even against enemies resistant to magic, Merlin had always helped see him through. And the knights had overcome assassins, magical beasts, bandits, a troll, invading armies, and magicians for years before and after Merlin arrived. If any group of men was up to the task of fighting an army of giants, it was the knights of Camelot.

He nodded and Merlin removed his hand. As was becoming habit, Arthur found he was extraordinarily glad to have Merlin at his side. Arthur's eyes trailed up from Merlin's face and his own face scrunched up in distaste, all kind feelings retreating for the moment.

"I'm sorry, but I cannot have a serious conversation with you while there's a bird on your head," he said dismissively.

Merlin laughed once and held out his left arm again, now that he wasn't using it to get Arthur's attention. Archimedes fluttered back down to sit on his arm again, leaving Merlin's hair in disarray. Arthur rolled his eyes. This was probably the best he was likely to get from his servant today. Besides, Merlin somehow managed to pull off unkempt as stylish, sometimes, and Arthur liked that he wasn't perfect.

"Arthur," Merlin said, drawing Arthur's attention. The dark haired male nodded. "We'll find the Cup. As soon as the scouts come back to confirm what Archie just told us, you can get your men ready to fight. And when the battle comes, you'll defeat them."

Arthur nodded once, accepting Merlin's counsel. Then he rolled his shoulders and huffed. "Of course we will. Camelot hasn't fallen to any enemy before and it won't start now." Merlin smiled and Arthur waved his hand as if to dismiss his servant. "Now send him away so we can go back to the field before we raise questions."

Merlin pet Archimedes on the head fondly, once, and then nodded. Archimedes immediately took off into the sky, one lone 'ki' announcing his exit.

"You know," Merlin said, watching the bird fly, "you could ask him to leave yourself."

That made Arthur scoff. "Please. First off, he's a bird, not a knight or servant. Second, I doubt he'd listen to me. And third, he's _your_ magic trouble maker so he's your problem, not mine."

Merlin gave a crooked grin. "You're 'my problem' too. How do you explain that?"

Arthur gaped at him for a moment, which only caused Merlin's mirth to grow. Shaking his head, Arthur grabbed Merlin around the shoulders and further mussed up his hair. Merlin gave a noise of protest and grabbed Arthur's arm around his shoulders, but didn't fight him off like Arthur knew he could. He stumbled when Arthur released him abruptly.

"Merlin." Arthur's suddenly solemn tone caused the smile to drop off Merlin's face. "When we face the giants, I want you to be careful." Merlin's expression turned curious. "They'll be immortal, which means even your magic won't harm them. Don't be a hero and get yourself killed. That's an order."

Merlin's eyes hardened in a way Arthur had only seen in worn soldiers. He didn't like the look on Merlin. "The same goes for you, Arthur. Excalibur might not do you any good against an enemy protected by the Cup of Life."

They stared at each other for a long moment, blue into blue. For a moment, Arthur imagined what had given Merlin the ability to turn his eyes to cold steel, who he had killed or what he had seen. He much preferred the Merlin of easy smiles and purposeful ignorance toward social norms. As much as looking at Merlin, at any time, gave Arthur confidence, he needed to break this moment. He needed to wipe that look from Merlin's face.

"Don't look so serious," Arthur admonished, though he thought his voice might have wavered a bit. "I've trained for years to face any enemy that might arise. Without your magic, you're as useful with a sword as a squire."

Merlin's expression cleared. Or rather, he looked petulant rather than ready for battle. "That's a lie and you know it," he defended himself.

Arthur fought and failed to keep the smile off his face. Then he grabbed Merlin by the arm and walked him back toward the field.

And though many of the knights commented on Merlin's secret talents and Sir Lionel complimented Merlin on being confident enough to let the falcon land on him without a falconer's glove, no one asked why it had been flying free and wasn't in the mews or weathering yard with the other falcons, or why it had come onto the field just then.

...

...

The knights Arthur sent to check the forest of Balor returned by nightfall. Or, some of them did. Of the five he'd sent, only two came back. As soon as they had reported to Arthur the horrors they'd seen, Arthur sent them to Gaius for medical attention and sleeping draughts, then he sent a guard to fetch his father.

When his father met him in the meeting room, Arthur's uncle Agravaine was with him. Arthur wasn't surprised that the older man had come as well, since he and Uther had most likely been discussing the details of Agravaine's stay in Camelot when the guard fetched the king. However, it would alter how Arthur informed his father of the threat on the city.

"Arthur," Uther said as he walked down the length of the table to where his son was standing at the head. "What's the matter? You look worried."

Arthur gripped the tall back of the chair in front of him for a moment and then released it and moved to stand beside it instead of behind it. "Father, there is a great danger closing in on Camelot."

"Whatever do you mean, Arthur?" Agravaine asked, his voice smooth. He would be an excellent politician if given the chance. "Camelot has been quiet and peaceful since your men dispatched that harpy attack over a month ago. You even went so far as to track and kill the few the escaped, ensuring the safety of the kingdom. Surely there is no grave danger to Camelot so soon, if your knights are doing their jobs."

Arthur barely refrained from crossing his arms. Doing so would put a barrier between himself and his father and would be a sign of insecurity. Arthur was not insecure. He was impatient.

"I heard rumor of bandits in the Forest of Balor," he started with the lie he'd told his knights, "so I sent five knights to go see about it, to rid the forest of the threat if they found one." He made sure he was looking his father in the eyes as he kept speaking. "They found a threat, father, but it was not bandits."

Uther looked at least mildly concerned while Agravaine had the appearance of a man entertaining the babbling of a young child who'd had a nightmare. Even having pulled the sword from the stone, Arthur had not earned his uncle's respect as a leader. He would have to remedy that.

"What did they find?" Uther asked when Arthur had paused too long. "Sorcery?"

Arthur didn't answer immediately. The giants themselves weren't sorcery, but the magic that had resurrected them most certainly was. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes." Uther's face turned to stone while Agravaine's expression looked a bit pinched. "They encountered giants in the forest father. My knights reported that the giant Balor was leading an army of a hundred against Camelot."

A scoff drew Arthur and Uther's attention away from each other and over to Agravaine. The older gentleman briefly ran a hand through his black hair when he noticed he had their attention, then explained his reaction.

"That is impossible, Arthur," he said. "Balor is a myth. A legend. And even if he were real, he would have been dead for centuries. Your men must be mistaken."

To Arthur's chagrin, his father seemed to be agreeing with Agravaine's logic. He frowned. "Of the five well trained men I sent, only two came back," he said with perhaps too much force. "The survivors reported that the leader of these giant men wore a blindfold over his left eye, and that when their fellow knights looked into that eye, they died immediately and without fail. These accounts match with those of the legend of Balor of the Evil Eye perfectly."

Uther nodded, considering both what his son and his brother-in-law had said. "If it is true, that this ancient evil has returned, then Camelot must prepare itself for a fight."

Again Agravaine jumped in. "It is not true, I assure you," he said to Uther. When he received a questioning look from Uther, ignoring the glare he got from Arthur, Agravaine continued. "It is impossible to raise the dead. Even for a sorcerer it would impossible. Especially for one so long dead. I am certain that what Arthur's men saw were simply the bandits Arthur heard rumor of. Now, these bandits might be taller than average men, and maybe they are more ruthless, but they are not giants. Sorcerers, perhaps, killing travelers and knights both in their greed, beguiling the senses to prey on men's fears."

The way he said it, even Arthur would have questioned the reports from his knights if he didn't already know the truth. It would be very possible for a band of mildly skilled sorcerers to ambush and kill travelers and knights both, creating illusions of grandeur to hide their identities. But Arthur had Merlin's vision, the word of a magic talking falcon, and the reports from his own trusted men to tell him that these were not sorcerers. These were giants, only magic in that they had been raised from the dead and made immortal.

Uther touched his chin briefly, then nodded. "Arthur," he said, turning his attention back to his son. Arthur stood up straighter. "Prepare your best knights to go deal with this threat. If there are sorcerers in the forest, killing Camelot citizens and knights, we must deal with them swiftly."

Arthur frowned. "But what if it isn't sorcerers?" he asked. "What if my men weren't beguiled? What if it really is Balor and his giant army? We should be preparing to defend ourselves from the worst scenario, should we not?"

"And we shall," Agravaine answered with a smile. "Sorcerers with the power to beguile and kill knights of Camelot are incredibly dangerous. And a hundred sorcerers of this strength...," he trailed off, letting them draw their own conclusions.

Arthur could admit the idea was terrifying. One hundred enemy sorcerers descending upon Camelot was just as frightening as the thought of a hundred giants, if not much more so. At least Arthur knew he had two (and perhaps a half, if he counted Gaius's old and unpracticed knowledge) powerful magic users on his side in such a battle. Uther knew of Merlin's magic, but one man against a hundred was terrible odds. If Uther knew that the giants were immortal, the threat of giants would be seen as more pressing, but Arthur had no way to prove the giants were immortal unless he either brought up Merlin's vision - something he couldn't do in Agravaine's company, or could show the Cup of Life full of giant blood to his father - which he didn't have.

"Father, may I speak to you in private?" Arthur requested, trying to keep his tone even.

Agravaine smiled. "It seems your son does not trust me with matters involving the city, dear Uther." Now he shook his head and focused all his attention on the king. "I'm sure he has the best intentions at heart, but to ignore the facts..."

Arthur's uncle didn't finish his thought but he didn't need to. Uther was already considering his words and nodding. For the moment, Agravaine had his father's ear and Arthur was left on the outside. Arthur hadn't felt so far from the throne since he pulled the sword from the stone.

With a grimace, Arthur said, "I will prepare the knights to battle sorcerers," barely keeping his bitterness out of his voice.

The look Uther threw his way said his father knew some of Arthur's feelings on the matter. He knew Arthur was sympathetic to sorcerers because of Merlin and the seer Tethella meddling in his life. It was no secret that his father disapproved of Arthur's feelings utterly and completely. And those thoughts would keep his father from seeing Arthur's disappointment regarding Agravaine.

"See that you do," he said simply. "After we rid Camelot of this danger, your uncle will be joining you as a knight of Camelot as your second."

"Leon is my second," Arthur contended, earning him a frown from both his father and Agravaine. He shook his head and gave a smile he hoped was placating. "If Uncle would be willing to face Leon in combat, and if he defeated Leon, then I will have no issues with the arrangement. But Leon has served with the knights faithfully for years and he is one of the best swordsmen I've ever known. I don't feel it would be right to revoke his position without just cause."

Uther's lips actually quirked up a little at his son's logic and he pat Agravaine amicably on the shoulder. "A warrior's duel. So be it. When peace has been restored, I will preside over the fight myself." He waved toward the door. "Now, go, prepare the knights."

Agravaine was giving a sickly smile, obviously upset at this turn of events, but bowed to Arthur before the prince left the room. As for Arthur, he had no intention of preparing his knights to face a band of rogue sorcerers. He would prepare them to face an army of giants with the power to kill with eye contact.

...

...

Morgana was sitting up in bed when Gwen knocked on the door. When her friend poked her head in, Morgana smiled, but it was shaky. "Gwen," she said softly.

Opening the door more fully, Gwen let Arthur into the room. He was dressed in his sleep trousers and a simple white shirt, no shoes or belt and his hair was finger brushed. Gwen was making sure not to look directly at him if she didn't have to, a faint blush on her cheeks.

"I brought Arthur, like you asked," Gwen said, voice loud in the quiet night.

Morgana nodded. "Thank you. Could you excuse us for a few minutes?" she asked politely, her voice still soft.

Gwen frowned, concerned, but eventually nodded. With a curtsey, she said, "I'll be next door if you need me," and left, shutting the door silently behind her.

Arthur waited a few moments, giving time for Gwen to walk away from the door, before he took a step further into the room. Morgana was staring out the window by then.

"Morgana, what's wrong?" he asked. "Gwen said you had a nightmare and called for me."

Morgana slid her legs around to the edge of the bed and stood up, all in one fluid motion and with the sort of grace that no other in all of Albion could manage. "I had a vision tonight. I saw your knights die by looking into the eye of Balor. I saw the cup full of blood. I saw Camelot's walls breaking down as giants stormed the castle. Morgause was inside." She gave a slight smile. "But I also saw the cup overturned."

Arthur's lips quirked up. "So we'll win."

Morgana shook her head. "I'm not sure. The cup being emptied means that the giants will be mortal again. Anything after that is chance." She huffed an aggravated breath, upset at her lack of understanding. "I need more training to understand the meaning behind my visions. Seer training."

She watched as Arthur's grin fell. "Morgana," he hedged, peeking at her curiously, "Is Merlin a seer? He's never mentioned."

She frowned. "No."

"But he foresaw the giants before you did."

Morgana walked around the edge of her bed toward the window, lifting her gaze toward the stars. "Merlin is...different," she said, hesitant. How to explain the difference between her magic and Merlin's? At length, she turned to face her brother, leaning back against the stone windowsill but not sitting. "When I was with my sister I learned to practice magic more liberally." To Arthur's credit, he barely flinched remembering when Morgana was against him. "I learned spells and incantations, how to make potions and poisons, how to give life to stone and mud, how to attack my enemies. But that is not the magic I was born to do. I'm not as strong in spells as Morgause or Merlin. My power lies in foresight. I can't stop having visions any more than you can breathe underwater."

Arthur snorted, once, softly, but did not interrupt her, for which Morgana was grateful. Folding her hands together, Morgana continued in a more contemplative tone.

"Merlin's magic is...elemental. He was born with it, grew up with it singing in his veins." Since the basilisk incident, she and Merlin had discussed the nature of magic and how it affected people, what it should be used for. "His magic tames storms, both in nature and in men. He knows many of the same spells that I do, but he also knows how to warm a hearth, find what's been lost. I learned magic, he breathes it. Merlin is magic, to his core, in all its wonder and its danger. I've never known his like."

"So Merlin has your gift of foresight, but more power," Arthur tried to summarize, "and that's how he's different from you."

Morgana shook her head. "Merlin and I are fundamentally different, Arthur. My visions come to me at night and they only show me the future. Merlin's visions come to him during the day, in his waking life. From what he's told me, he sees the future, but also the present and the past. Merlin is not considered a seer because he is so much more than that."

Arthur stood quietly in her room, hands lightly clenching into fists and unclenching at his sides. He was having difficulty reconciling his image of the bumbling Merlin they knew every day with the image of Merlin as a powerful sorcerer, no doubt. Morgana had only had a short time more than Arthur to get used to this same idea. But then again, she was magic too, so she could probably understand Merlin easier. Arthur knew Merlin better than probably anyone else in the world, though, so Morgana knew he would understand. It just might take some time.

"As for my vision," she said, bringing the topic back to the reason she had called for him and lifting her voice to something befitting a ward of the king. "The giants will enter the city."

Arthur's eyes darted up to meet hers even as his expression hardened. "I'll call for an evacuation of the lower town," he said. "I'll bring the citizens into the safety of the inner keep while the knights and I fight the giants outside." He lifted a hand to point at her. "Do you know when the giants will arrive?"

Morgana frowned. "I'm not sure," she said. "But it felt incredibly soon. Tomorrow night would be my guess."

"Have you found anything on the Cup?" Arthur asked.

A short nod. "A bit. Merlin and I are going to start searching in the morning."

"Then we have a lot of work to do in the morning."

Morgana did not dispute it. There was more to her dream than the giants but Arthur didn't need to know of it. She would go to Merlin tomorrow and warn him. There was a woman in Camelot with a strange aura, looking for Merlin, who wanted the Cup of Life. And the Cup of Life was somewhere in the castle. They indeed had a lot of work to do.

...

...

Uther wasn't happy when his courtyard was suddenly full of townsfolk, or that Arthur's knights were in the lower town instead on their way to the Forest of Balor to fight a band of sorcerers. However, Arthur made sure to avoid any possible chance of seeing his father the next day. There were immortal giants coming and he simply didn't have the time.

The lower town had barely been evacuated when the ground began to shake.

"An army on horseback?" one of the knights asked.

"No. Remember what Breunor said? Giants," said another.

They all looked to Arthur for guidance and he nodded. Several of the knights gulped and took a step back, but none of them turned and ran. It was that bravery that had won them many battles.

Arthur drew his sword. "Ready for battle," he said loudly, his voice carrying to all the knights. "We must defend Camelot and its people at all costs!"

He ordered the city gates shut and got the knights into a defensive formation around the entrance. Through the steel gates, they watched as the trees gave way to men ten feet tall. Arthur counted six in his view through the gate but knew there were dozens more that he couldn't see to either side and more coming up from the rear. He also knew that the knights could not defeat the giants until Merlin and Morgana found and emptied the Cup, but they could delay the fighting to limit casualties.

"Fire!" he shouted to the battlements, where guards with bows and crossbows stood shielded by stone. They rolled out from hiding, took aim, and let their arrows fly.

Through the gate, Arthur watched the arrows hit their marks. Some of the giant men stumbled, one fell, but they regained their footing moments later and kept coming. The drawbridge broke under the first giant's heavy weight, but that didn't slow them down for more than a moment. Flaming arrows rained down on their heads but they just knocked them aside like insects.

From behind, Arthur could hear the distant sound of the people secured inside the courtyard as they voiced their worries about the thunder in the ground and the angry shouts of giant men. At least they were safe, for now, with a second wall between them and the enemies who bore down upon them. If the knights could defeat the giants in the lower town, no peasants needed to die.

Without turning his head, Arthur cast his thoughts briefly to Merlin and Morgana. They had better make the giants mortal, and fast.

...

...

"What did the room look like in your dream, Morgana?" Merlin asked.

Morgana pulled shut the door to the room they'd just searched and frowned at him. "Stone. It looked like stone, Merlin. Like any room in the castle," she answered testily.

"You didn't see anything defining?"

"No. We've been over this."

Merlin let out a heavy breath. "I know, but time is running out. The giants have started their attack and Arthur is out there with his men, fighting."

Morgana didn't speak until they'd checked the next room in the hall, looking under desks and around wardrobes for something that wasn't there. "I know that," she said, letting the window curtain fall back into place and crossing her arms. "I wish I had more information. Did you not see anything in your vision?"

With a frown, Merlin headed for the door. "No, I saw it being filled, not where it was hidden. I didn't even know it was in the castle until you told me so."

Morgana shut the door behind them. She turned to continue down the hall and stopped. There was a woman peeking around the corner into the hallway. She had orange red hair that barely peaked out from under her brown and white bonnet and bright blue eyes. While pretty, she could have been just any peasant. Morgana would have thought she was, simply a baker's wife or a young blacksmith's mother, except this was the woman she had seen in her dream last night.

"Merlin," she said in warning, stopping the sorcerer from walking further down the hall. When Merlin glanced her way, Morgana nodded to the end of the hall. "That's her."

She had told Merlin of her dream last night, of the woman with the strange aura who was looking for Merlin, who was after the Cup of Life. It was the only reason this woman was in Camelot. Morgana didn't know anything else about her, not where she came from or why she wanted the Cup or if she was a friend or foe to Camelot. Her vision was severely limited when it came to this woman.

Merlin tilted his head at her, eyebrows pulled together in thought. "I've seen her before," he said quietly.

He'd seen the woman before, just like he'd seen the Cup of Life somewhere before. But where?

The woman seemed to come to a decision and stepped fully into view. She dusted off her skirts and pulled at them to lessen the appearance of wrinkles, and then began to walk down the hall toward them. At first glance, she seemed to be the perfect servant, eyes down, hands clasped in front of her, steps small and measured and quiet. However, a moment's watch and Morgana saw that her eyes were down but her chin was held high and she carried herself like a lady of the court. Beside her, Merlin gasped.

"It's you!" he said.

The woman gave a slight smile as she reached them and curtsied. Morgana remained tense. It's who?

"I'm pleased you remember me, my lord," the woman greeted. "My master sends his regards."

Merlin shook his head. "I'm sorry. I don't know your name."

"Dannan," she introduced and then frowned. "I'm afraid we don't have time for pleasantries, sir. Something of great value has been stolen from the king."

Merlin turned to Morgana before her confusion could mount any higher. "The Fisher King," he explained. "Dannan," the woman nodded when he glanced at her for assurance, "works in his castle." His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. "That's where I've seen the Cup before. The water that healed you and Uther when you were both really sick all those months ago, it was poured into a flask from inside the Cup of Life. That's why it healed you when nothing else did!" He gave Dannan a questioning look. "The Cup of Life is the Holy Grail?"

Dannan nodded. "Yes. But it was stolen," she revealed gravely. "A woman with fair hair but a grave expression somehow managed to gain entrance to the castle and took the Cup. But it is not her destiny to wield it, and the Cup must be returned to my master before it can cause any damage."

The castle shook around them, causing Dannan to fall to her knees while Merlin's arms pin wheeled briefly and Morgana grabbed the wall for balance. Morgana reached down to help Dannan up and leveled a serious look at the other woman's confusion.

"It's already causing damage," she said, making Dannan frown deeply.

The redhead turned worried eyes on Merlin. "Then it is good I found you," she said. "My king said you would help me find the Cup and return it to Whitehaven."

Morgana crossed her arms. "We've been looking all day and haven't found it yet," she revealed. "If you know a better way, please, let us know."

Merlin seemed to trust this woman, but Morgana wasn't sure. If she was from the hall of the legendary Fisher King, that could explain the weird aura Morgana had seen in her dreams last night. And she had been looking for Merlin, because her king told her to. And she wanted the Cup only because it had been stolen and she wanted to return it to her king where it belonged. So everything checked out, but Morgana wanted to withhold judgment. Camelot had been burned too many times by supposed friends.

Dannan nodded. "Lord Emrys," she spoke to Merlin. "You should be able to sense its location." She simply nodded when Merlin cast her a dubious look. "My master knows much about magic and he knew you would be the one to find the Cup and return it to Whitehaven, its proper keep. If you focus, you should be able to lead us right to it."

...

...

Only a few short minutes later, Merlin had walked the group of three through two halls and down a flight of stairs and stopped outside the door to the vaults. The door was locked but a quick whispered spell from Merlin had it open for them.

Morgana smirked. "I suppose that explains how you got into a few places you shouldn't have been in the past," she noted, teasing.

Merlin gave a sheepish shrug and began leading them down into the vaults. They had barely reached the bottom of the stairs when Merlin suddenly forced them back into the cover of the stairwell. In the room beyond, Morgause was picking listlessly through the many artifacts left in the open area of the vaults.

Morgana looked around the corner, saw her sister, and her gaze hardened. "I'll distract her. You two find the Cup and empty it," she whispered. As much as she might be worried about Dannan, she knew the only one Morgause would hesitate to kill was her.

"Who are you, hiding in the shadows?" Morgause asked. "I know you're there."

Merlin hesitated, then nodded and leaned back to let Morgana pass. She took a deep breath, straightened her back, and walked into the room.

"Morgana," Morgause gasped quietly.

"Sister," Morgana greeted. She walked to the far wall and turned around to face her blond sister, putting Morgause's back to the stairwell. "So my vision was correct. You are behind the resurrection of the giants."

Morgause smiled. "A simple task when given the right tools," she said.

"The Cup of Life."

Now Morgause looked proud. "You remember it." Merlin and Dannan slipped silently out of the stairwell and disappeared down the corridor. Morgana never moved her eyes from her sister's face. "Then you remember its powers?"

Morgana nodded. "The giants are immortal and nothing Arthur's knights do can kill them." She frowned. "I suppose you will empty the goblet yourself once the battle is won."

"Of course," Morgause agreed. "Balor is a formidable foe and his army will destroy Camelot and all who defend the Pendragon line. But keeping such a bloodthirsty beast around in the long term would be foolhardy. One wrong glance and an innocent would die."

Morgause began picking through the artifacts again, wandering around the room. Morgana wasn't worried though, since Merlin and Dannan were already gone. She did remain standing near the far wall though, in case she needed to draw Morgause's attention again.

"Considering the damage his army has already done, that is obvious," Morgana agreed as the castle shook above them, dropping dirt on their shoulders and heads. "But using him this way...I have to admit, I would do the same if I had the Cup of Life."

Morgause paused in looking at a particularly lovely goblet and lifted her eyes to her sister. "How did you know where to find me?" she asked, voice only mildly suspicious. Morgana knew that meant Morgause was seriously doubting her though.

"I saw the Cup and you in my vision," Morgana said. When Morgause continued to stare, Morgana let out an aggravated sigh and shook her head. "No, I did not tell anyone where you were. I told Arthur that the giants would come but that he could not defeat them."

A sickly pleased grin grew on Morgause's face. "Not such a nice prophesy to get from a seer on your side, is it?"

Morgana frowned. "No. No it's not."

"And the boy? Merlin?" Morgause asked with a frown. "Is he up there fighting from the shadows as well?"

"Merlin is always fighting on Arthur's side, no matter the danger to his own life," Morgana answered truthfully. "But even his magic cannot combat that of the Cup."

...

...

Arthur slashed at the leg of a giant, dragging its attention from one of his fallen knights before it could kill him. The beast flipped around and smacked Arthur to the side, causing a nearby soldier to shout in alarm, but it gave the knight time to get away. Arthur pushed himself to his feet as quickly as he could, his ribs aching and Excalibur held tight in his hand, then cast his gaze around.

Dozens of houses and businesses had been completely destroyed, leaving only rubble behind, and the wall at the entrance to the city had been obliterated. At least no civilians had been injured, Arthur reminded himself. Houses and walls could be rebuilt. People couldn't. He didn't want to wonder how many soldiers he'd lost so far.

Gripping Excalibur with both hands, Arthur ran at the nearest giant. It turned to face him and he slashed across its stomach. Almost as soon as the wound was inflicted, it healed. Cursing, Arthur dodged out of the way of the giant's hands when it retaliated.

A giant picked up part of what used to be a house and tossed it at some of the knights. Most of them got out of the way, but one shouted when it landed on him. From his continued struggle, he was alive but trapped and probably wounded. Two other soldiers hurried to help him while others struggled to keep the giant's attention off his trapped prey.

Two other giants were squabbling over an archer they had clutched in their hands, playing tug of war with his fragile body. Arthur moved to help him but stopped, a sick feeling in his gut, when he noticed the archer was already dead. They were fighting over the man's body, not his life. He hurried over to where more archers were stumbling out of the rubble of the wall and pointed to the fighting giants.

"Take them down," he ordered, and they were more than willing to obey.

A shout from the left made Arthur turn. One of his newest knight recruits was lying on the ground with wide eyes, not moving. Dead. Another knight was looking pointedly at the dead knight instead of at the large giant advancing on him.

"Kay! Move!" Arthur shouted.

The knight's eyes jumped up to his prince and he nodded with a grim expression before turning and running down the street away from Balor, for it had to be Balor - even without the cloth Merlin said should be covering his eye. Arthur ran around debris and wounded men toward the leader of this infernal army. He couldn't kill the bastard until Merlin and Morgana upturned that cup, but he could distract him for awhile.

Two guards made the mistake of looking at Balor as the giant rushed toward them, a club in his hands bigger than their heads. In an instant, they went rigid and collapsed to the ground. Arthur cursed and sprinted faster, as fast as his armor would allow.

"Balor!" he shouted, keeping his eyes on the ground around the beast's feet. He saw Balor turn around and narrowed his eyes. If he was to die, it would be by the club and not by the eye.

By watching the shadows and the tells of Balor's body from his waist down, Arthur managed to drop below a swing of the club and get close enough to stab Balor in the gut. When he pulled back, Arthur ran around behind the giant, who gave a deep belly laugh that turned Arthur's stomach.

"A smart and swift human," he said, voice like jagged rocks. "But you will still die."

"Not as long as I hold my sword," Arthur declared. "If I am standing, you will not succeed!"

Balor chortled, turning to face Arthur as if he had all the time in the world. "Then I suppose you must lose your legs, tiny warrior."

Arthur gave an upward slash to Balor's chest. Both he and Balor gasped when the wound began to bleed instead of healing. The blood scorched the stone where it fell and Arthur jumped away before any could splash on him. With a growl, Balor swung his large club. It hit Excalibur and knocked it from Arthur's hands.

"My lord!" Pellinore shouted, jumping from a pile of rubble onto Balor's back, driving his sword into the monster's spine.

Balor shouted in pain and fell to his knees. His body was still now, the club thumping to the ground heavily alongside his body, but his expression was stunned though no one was looking at it. Arthur quickly grabbed Excalibur and slashed horizontally across Balor's body, crossing his earlier wound and making Balor bleed exponentially more.

All around, the giants slowed their attacks until they were standing still, looking at their now bleeding wounds in surprise. Arthur saw them glance over to their king with confusion. The expressions only lasted a moment before the skin of every giant began to crack and break like dry earth. The knights only paused for a moment before resuming their attacks, pressing what seemed to be a sudden advantage.

Balor swung out with a mighty fist. Arthur jumped back, but though the attack was sloppy and desperate, Balor still managed to grab Arthur's left foot within his hand. Arthur felt his bones grinding in the tight grip and quickly sliced the hand from Balor's arm, then forced the fingers to release him while Balor shouted obscenities at him. Pellinore pulled his sword from Balor's spine, causing the giant to shudder horribly and nearly knock the knight from his shoulders. Then he shoved the point of his weapon as hard as he could into Balor's skull. One of the eyes popped clean from its socket, replaced by red steel.

Then suddenly the lower town was void of giants and instead full of tall piles of white sand. Even the giants' blood had become harmless grains that blew around in the wind.

Pellinore, standing from where he'd fallen when Balor crumbled, dusted himself off with a heavy breath. "Did we win?" he asked, coughing.

Arthur looked around at the destruction and dead bodies around them. "The giants are dead, but our victory isn't complete. It will take time to rebuild."

"But how?" Pellinore asked, making his way over to help his prince stand. "They seemed unbeatable."

Motioning to the sand before them, the remains of Balor, Arthur said, "Perhaps killing the king killed the army, like cutting off the head of a snake. Whatever the reason, Camelot is still standing because of it."

Merlin and Morgana must have overturned the Cup of Life, emptying it of blood. Arthur looked to the castle and wondered if they were alright.

...

...

Morgause wandered toward the stairs. "Morgana," she said speculatively. "When this is all over and Camelot is free for the taking, it will need a new ruler. Despite your betrayal, I would still be willing to follow you as queen."

"Even knowing I disagree with your methods?" Morgana asked, honestly curious.

The blond witch nodded. "Yes. Because once the Pendragons are gone, you will no longer owe them allegiance. You will be free to rule Camelot as its true heir and not have to defer to that inferior King or his awful son."

As Morgause spoke, Morgana became aware of the quiet that had fallen upstairs. No longer did dust sprinkle down and there was no rumbling. The battle was over. A slight movement down the corridor caught Morgana's attention.

"Morgause," Morgana said, then stopped. She waited until she had Morgause's full attention before slowly walking forward. "I will never be queen of Camelot." Morgause opened her mouth but Morgana didn't let her speak. "I am too dark, have become too distorted in my soul. Arthur is not his father and he is the true heir of Camelot, of Albion. I have seen it, as has Tethella."

Morgause scoffed. "Tethella speaks in riddles."

"No matter what you try, Arthur will still become king. He will win, Morgause." Morgana had never seen her sister glare so ferociously at her before. It was actually rather terrifying. "Do you not hear it?" She cast her gaze briefly up to the ceiling and then watched as Morgause did the same. "You've already lost, sister."

The realization that Morgana was right dawned slowly and with a fight on Morgause's face. She didn't want to believe it. "No." She shook her head. "The Cup of Life-"

"Is no longer in your possession," Merlin stated as he stepped into view.

Flipping around to face him, Morgause scowled. "I should have guessed. You always find a way to interfere." She huffed out a breath and stood tall, looking as composed as ever. "Mark me, child, soon I will find a way to eliminate you, along with your precious prince."

Merlin held out his hand and opened his mouth, glaring, but Morgause spit out her transportation spell in a second. Wind picked up in the vault, blowing cobwebs and dust everywhere, and when it settled Morgause was gone.

Dannan peeked out from the corridor, the Cup of Life clutched in her hands. "Is she gone?"

Morgana let out a long sigh. "For now."

"I wish we could stop her from using that spell all the time," Merlin commented, sounding winded.

She looked at Merlin and found him looking back, his expression as wary and tired as Morgana felt. If only there was a way to make Morgause see the good in Arthur, but it was probably a hope held in vain. Perhaps if she didn't vanish at the first sign of failure, they could talk to her properly.

...

...

Merlin sighed, exasperated, and picked up the reins of his horse. "Honestly, Arthur, I'll be back in a few days. You don't need to be worried."

Arthur frowned. "I'm not worried."

Across the courtyard, Gwen was helping Dannan onto a horse. Merlin had explained who she was to Arthur but to everyone else, she was a childhood friend that Merlin was escorting home due to the recent danger. The two girls were chatting but Arthur couldn't hear what they were saying, though it seemed slightly tense.

Rolling his eyes, Merlin said, "Of course not. That's why there's a new sword strapped to the saddle and why I'm wearing chainmail under my clothes." He grinned when Arthur huffed. "Try not to die while I'm gone, alright?"

Now Arthur was the one to roll his eyes and crossed his arms - at least, as best he could around the crutch Gaius had forced upon him due to his injured foot and not pulling too hard on his injured ribs. It looked more humorous than Arthur probably intended it to. "Honestly Merlin, I'll be fine. I've got a few cuts and bruises, that's all. You're like a mother with her first child the way you nag."

"Well someone has to keep your head from getting too big or your crown wouldn't fit," Merlin teased. Kay, nearby, coughed a laugh into his fist. Arthur obviously heard it anyway and scowled, his cheeks faintly pink.

"Get moving before you lose the light," he said shortly before turning and walking up the steps toward the main castle doors.

Merlin locked eyes with Kay and shrugged with a helpless expression, making the knight smile at him. Then he walked his horse over to Dannan's. She looked more uncomfortable the longer she spoke with Gwen.

"Are you ready to go, Dannan?" he asked, only feeling minutely guilty for interrupting. "We've got a lot of ground to cover and not as long as you think before sunset."

She smiled at him. "Yes. I am eager to get home."

Only once they were out of the city and on the road did she let herself sit up like a lady of breeding. It was a subtle but definite difference that was fascinating to see.

"Lord Emrys," she said to Merlin after they ate lunch.

"Really, Dannan, you can call me Merlin," he insisted, tying his pack a little tighter before mounting again.

She ignored his request. "You still have a question."

Merlin didn't need clarification. He hadn't asked the Fisher King a question the last time they met. Everyone was allowed one question. But, honestly, Merlin didn't want to ask anything. He'd given it a lot of thought, but his feelings hadn't changed since the last time he spoke with the injured king. Since that day, Merlin had thought of many questions he could ask, but he didn't want to. Knowing the future, or just a possible one, had never turned out well for him. And any questions he had about people would be answered in time. Until then, he wanted to see the best in everyone. So he had no questions for the king.

"I know," he said simply.

Dannan nodded. "If you ever wish to ask your question, my king will be waiting for you in Whitehaven." After that, she didn't bring it up again.

They didn't talk much as they rode, but it was alright. Haste was more important than conversation. The longer the Cup was away from Whitehaven, the longer the world was in danger. There was only one situation when the Cup should be taken from the Fisher King and that time had not yet come.

When Merlin had delivered the Cup and Dannan back to the king, he would turn around and return to Camelot. He would help rebuild Camelot in any way he could, tend to the injured and bury the dead, and try to prepare for whatever plan Morgause would come up with next. He only hoped the next time, the cost of victory wouldn't be quite so high.

...

...

_tbc_

...

...

**Next Time: Le Morte D'Uther**

_When a fever plagues the kingdom, even the king is not immune. But illness is not all that has gone wrong in Camelot. A dark cloud is coming from the west and it may be Uther's soul, more than his life, in danger. But only the Seelie Court can defeat the Slaugh in battle, and there aren't any good fairies to be found._


	5. Le Morte D'Uther

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a fever plagues the kingdom, even the king is not immune. But illness is not all that has gone wrong in Camelot. A dark cloud is coming from the west and it may be Uther's soul, more than his life, in danger. With the arrival of the deadly Sluagh, the Seelie Court is Camelot's only hope, but there aren't any good fairies to be found.

As the soldiers marched out of the room, Gaius turned his attention to the man lying on the table. Another man was on the floor by Gaius's bed, and a woman was lying in it. Merlin's bed had been taken by two children.

Merlin ran his hands through his hair. "This is insane," he said. "That's the twelfth person they've brought in _today_."

"I am the Court Physician, Merlin. When the city falls ill, they come to me," Gaius said matter-of-factly.

"But-" Merlin shook his head. "This many people all at once? What's causing them all to fall ill?"

The elderly man straightened for a moment and regarded his ward wearily. "I don't know. It seems to be nothing more than a fever, if a strong one. But I've no idea what's causing it. The best I can do is give them tonics to help lower the fever, but if that's just a masking symptom..." He gave a sigh and a vain shrug of his arms.

Merlin let out a displeased noise. "More people are falling ill every day. Soon all of Camelot will be lying sick in their beds." He motioned toward his bedroom. "I've checked the book, but there's nothing. I mean, I could try some things, but I might just make it worse if I'm treating the wrong problem."

Gaius shook his head. "No. Better not to chance it." He glanced to the window, taking in the sunlight that seemed at odds with the somber interior. He was probably looking for Archimedes, who had not returned from his nighttime flight, but he didn't say a word when he looked away and to his nephew again. "You should get to Arthur. Take the potions on the counter there," he pointed behind him. "They're for the king. He's been feeling ill for some time now, and I don't want him catching this fever on top of it."

With a nod, Merlin grabbed the potions and hurried from the room. He rushed along the corridors quickly, heading for the King's chambers. The Barghest had told Merlin that Uther would die within the year. The year was nearly over. Uther's time was almost up. It might be cruel, but Merlin wanted to keep the king alive as long as possible, even if he was sick the entire time. He was a mean king, but Arthur loved him and he loved Arthur. That was enough reason to help.

Merlin entered the king's chambers without knocking and came face to face with Uther in his bed, pale and sickly. Arthur stood to the right of the bed, his uncle Agravaine at his side. Everyone looked at him when he entered and he swallowed thickly, holding up the vials.

"G-gaius sent these up for you, milord," he said to the king.

When he'd first fallen ill, ill enough that he had to remain in bed anyway, Uther had accused Merlin of causing it. It was a weak accusation that Arthur dispelled almost immediately, but the distrust had returned to Uther's eyes. Now, Uther appeared to have decided it took too much effort to blame anyone for his illness. He just looked tired.

Not for the first time, Merlin wished he was good at healing magic. Nothing he had tried so far had worked - though all his attempts had been out of sight of both the prince and the king since he knew they wouldn't be welcomed by Uther and it would probably make Arthur nervous despite his ready acceptance of Merlin's magic, or sourly disappointed every time Merlin failed.

Agravaine moved to accept the vials from Merlin and then walked back over to the king. "You must take your medicine, Uther," he said, forgoing honorifics altogether, "or you will not get better."

Uther hated Gaius's vile potions as much as the next person, both Arthur and Merlin knew it. Still, he drank them without complaint or wince.

"There are matters to be taken care of," Arthur said once the vials were all empty. He touched his uncle's shoulder. "I leave him in your care, Uncle."

Agravaine gave a subservient nod and Arthur grabbed Merlin by the upper arm, practically dragging him from the room. When they were several hallways away, and no one was around, Arthur stopped them.

"Gaius needs to come and see my father for himself," Arthur stated darkly.

Merlin frowned. "The fever is spreading across Camelot. He's got a constant stream of villagers and knights who need medicines." Arthur was shaking his head. "As soon as he gets a break, I'm sure he'll be up to see your father himself."

Arthur growled. "You don't understand, Merlin. The way my father has fallen ill..." He shook his head once more, slowly. "I think he's been poisoned."

With wide eyes, Merlin gasped, "P-poisoned?!"

"Shh!" Arthur smacked a hand over Merlin's mouth.

They stayed that way, just staring at each other, for several moments, listening. There was no sound of footsteps, no breathing, nothing. They were alone. Arthur gave a sigh when he pulled away.

"I don't have any proof, but Gaius would know the difference between poison and illness. Still, until I know for certain, keep your mouth shut, _Mer_ lin." He flicked Merlin on the nose, causing the servant to take a half step back. "We don't need a panic, and I don't want the person responsible to have any chance to hide the evidence, or run due to suspicion."

The fact that Arthur was hiding his suspicions even from Agravaine spoke volumes toward Arthur's trust in the man. Ever since he lost, spectacularly, in his duel against Leon and failed to become Arthur's second, he'd been using his time to whisper in Uther's ear, belittling everything Arthur had ever accomplished and making him doubt his son in a way he never had before. If they found that someone was poisoning Uther, Agravaine might make it sound like Arthur had planned the whole thing.

Merlin nodded, eyes serious. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Arthur shook his head in the negative, but he seemed pleased that Merlin had offered at all. "No. I need you to help Gaius so that he can get up to see my father as soon as possible. Leave the detective work to me. Besides, you're about as sneaky as a dragon."

"Dragons can be pretty sneaky," Merlin quipped, but Arthur was already walking away.

...

...

The door shut behind Morgana without her hand ever touching the wood. She immediately headed to her cupboard and pulled out a bowl containing an ash-like substance and a deep purple cinch bag. She set them on her vanity table and took a seat on the cushioned chair before it.

Morgana looked at herself in the mirror and frowned. Her skin was paler than usual, but she still looked resolute. Taking a deep breath, she opened the cinch bag and took a pinch of black powder between her fingers.

"Ic ingecégan geweald þæs eald ǣfæstnes. Ingerǽcan gesihþ tō mec. Lǽdan mec tō þæs héafod ond ácýðan þæs sceaða," she chanted and then dashed the black powder in the ashes.

The ashes caught fire as the powder hit. Morgana leaned her face into the climbing smoke, eyes closed. She sat there, simply breathing, for several seconds. Then she opened her eyes and frowned.

"It's no use," she muttered, and waved her hand to dispel the smoke.

...

...

Merlin wound the dirty sheets into a ball and tossed them into a nearby basket he would later take to the laundry for cleaning. Patting his hands together as if to clean dust off, Merlin glanced around the room. It was quiet for the first time in a while, with no patients lying around. Gaius had sent them all home with medicine and then gone to see the king about Arthur's suspicions. Merlin hoped Uther wasn't poisoned. Illness was easier to cure than poison.

"Ki!"

Merlin's head shot up as Archimedes drifted in through the upper window. His arm went up just as the falcon came in for a landing, perching on his forearm. The silver of his wings sent sparks of light dancing around the room.

"Archi! Where have you been?" Merlin asked. "You were supposed to be back before sunrise, and it's been over a day."

"Ki ki ki..." Archimedes lowered his head. Then he ruffled his feathers and shifted on Merlin's arm. "I'm sorry. I saw a strange cloud."

Merlin blinked. "A cloud?" He moved to sit at the table and Archimedes hopped off his arm onto the wood.

"It wasn't a cloud. It was alive." The falcon seemed genuinely unnerved and flustered. "The ki kiii." He shook himself, his feathers ruffling briefly. "Sluagh!"

Merlin leaned closer. "What are Sluagh?"

Just as Archimedes' beak opened, so did the front door. Archimedes skittered to hide behind Gaius' work table in the blink of an eye. Morgana stormed in, practically slamming the door shut behind her. Merlin heard the lock click into place. In her hands was a box and her expression was so serious it was almost frightening.

"Can I help you?" Merlin asked hesitantly, still seated.

A nod. "Yes."

She set her box on the table and opened it. Then she pulled out a small bowl with ashes and a deep purple cinch bag. These two items she set in front of Merlin before closing the box.

"Gwen has fallen ill," Morgana announced as she sat down across from her servant friend. Merlin's eyes widened. "I tried to seek out the cause of the fever, but I failed. You see, to track something, you need to know exactly what you are searching for."

"You do?" Merlin asked. He'd searched for Arthur once before, but he'd just switched the word in the spell out for Arthur's name. He hadn't thought about the spell or how it worked beyond his dire need to find Arthur.

Another nod. "I couldn't do it. I have no clue what could cause such a widespread fever. I know it's magic, but nothing more. So I failed. But...I think you could find something." Merlin's eyes widened. "You are one of the strongest sorcerers I have ever met. I think you could find the cause, even if it's not a person or a creature."

Merlin had created spells from thin air before, to fit the circumstances and his needs – usually to save Arthur's life. So maybe he could trace something without a lead? Even if he couldn't, he'd try. Morgana looked like she hadn't slept last night and a hint of desperation was creeping at the corners of her eyes.

"It can't hurt to try," he agreed after a long pause.

Morgana motioned to the cinch bag. "Open the bag and take a pinch of powder. Then repeat after me. Once the spell is cast, toss the powder into the bowl. It will light on fire. Place your face in the path of the smoke. If this works, you should get a vision answering your request."

With a nod, Merlin did as told, and once he had his pinch he looked to Morgana for the words.

"Ic ingecégan geweald þæs eald ǣfæstnes."

"Ic ingecégan geweald þæs eald ǣfæstnes," Merlin repeated fluidly.

"Ingerǽcan gesihþ tō mec."

"Ingerǽcan gesihþ tō mec."

"Lǽdan mec tō þæs héafod ond ácýðan þæs sceaða."

"Lǽdan mec tō þæs héafod ond ácýðan þæs sceaða."

He dropped the powder in the bowl and it instantly lit on fire, making him jump just a little. When there were tendrils of smoke flowing up into the air, Merlin leaned forward and placed his face in the path of the smoke.

Merlin's eyes almost instantly snapped open, but his usually blue eyes were the brightest of gold. He saw Gwen, lying sick in bed, and a dozen other villagers and knights, sweaty and in pain. He saw Agravaine holding a vial of dark liquid. Then Merlin was rushing through Camelot, then the forest, until he stopped at an old, forgotten fortress. A man in black on a black steed rode into the dark stoned fort. Morgause stood over a pool of water, casting a spell. Camelot reflected in the water, then a strange black cloud.

But it wasn't a cloud – it was thousands of grey and black faerie creatures, like Merlin had seen when the gates of Avalon had been opened so long ago, only dark. Morgause stepped back from the water and grinned seductively at Agravaine. A vial of dark liquid passed from her delicate hands into his gloved ones. A cup of water on a bedside table by a dying king.

"Soon, Uther will cease to be, on this or any plane. The Sluagh will take his soul," Morgause crooned.

"And revenge will be ours," Agravaine added, wrapping his arms around Morgause's waist.

Merlin practically threw himself back from the table gasping and heaving. Morgana took his hands in her own.

"What did you see?" she asked, voice quiet.

After a few more gasps, Merlin was able to answer. "Morgause cursed everyone to be sick," he said breathily, his head still spinning from what he'd seen, heard, and felt. "She's poisoning the king, and she's cursed the city to hide it. And...and she summoned a cloud of Sluagh to...to steal his soul."

Morgana frowned. "What are Sluagh?"

The male sorcerer shook his head and shrugged at the same time. "I don't know. But they looked like...evil faeries."

The look on Morgana's face was conflicted. Merlin could tell that she didn't really care if Uther died, she made her distaste for him known on a daily basis. But she'd resolved to be good, to help Arthur, and thus she didn't know what to do.

"Sitting by while someone dies, if you know there's a chance to save them...that's about as bad as killing them yourself," Merlin said, simple but serious. Morgana flinched. "I may not like Uther, but I won't let him die. I'm going to get proof of the poisoning, and then I'm going to tell Arthur and his father who the traitor is." He stood and headed for the door.

"Who is it?"

He paused at the door. "Agravaine."

"No," Morgana said stiffly. Merlin gave her a curious look as she stood from her seat. "I will get the proof. You're still a servant, Merlin, and Agravaine is a lord. But," Morgana offered a humorless smile, "I am a lady. Besides, he doesn't like you. No doubt because of Morgause. I'll be more inconspicuous and he may trust me more. You worry about the Sluagh."

...

...

The stars shone down on the small clearing just outside of Camelot where Merlin waited. It was only moments before he heard the flapping of giant wings and Kilgharrah flew into view. The Great Dragon landed in front of the sorcerer and frowned.

"As much as it pleases me to help a Dragonlord," he said wryly, "I left two terrors alone to destroy my new home, and I believe that is also your doing. So if you could keep this brief."

The human nodded. "I need to know how to defeat the Sluagh."

Kilgharrah laughed lowly. "Only those of the Seelie Court can defeat the Sluagh, and you do not have the time to win their assistance."

Merlin frowned up at him. "Why not?"

"The Sluagh are members of the Seelie Court who have been cast out. They committed atrocities against their own and other kinds and thus were branded the Unseelie. The Seelie Court wants nothing to with their fallen brethren," the dragon said like a reprimand. "Besides which, the gates to their world is two days ride away, and the Sluagh will be upon Camelot in a matter of hours. They fly as birds do, swifter than falcons. If the king is weak or dead, they will descend upon him before the sun has risen."

"So how do I save the king's soul?" Merlin asked desperately.

Kilgharrah examined Merlin silently for several long moments. Merlin shifted anxiously. If the Sluagh were so close, then he didn't have time for the dragon's antics. Kilgharrah didn't like Uther, hated him, but Merlin needed to save him. If he had to force the answer out of this dragon, then he would. Just before Merlin could open his mouth, Kilgharrah spoke.

"A curse is upon the Sluagh, who brought shame upon the Seelie Court. They can only unleash their terror if they come from the west."

"But-"

"That is all you need to know. They will come from the west."

Merlin nodded. He met the dragon's eyes and gave a gentle smile. "Thank you."

"Whatever for?" the great beast asked.

"You called my name when I was lost and returned my memories to me."

Kilgharrah snorted. "I did no such thing. Your own will and magic returned those memories. All you needed was a push."

"Still," Merlin said with a brighter smile, "thank you."

"It was a pleasure, young warlock," Kilgharrah admitted with a bow. "Good luck. Now, I need to go remind someone where the restroom is and where it is not." Merlin laughed as Kilgharrah took off. The dragon called back to him, "You will not find it so amusing when you have your own children to care for."

...

...

A servant grabbed Merlin just as he entered the castle again, saying Arthur wanted to see him in the throne room as soon as possible, so Merlin diverted and went there rather than toward Morgana's room. The halls surrounding the room were suspiciously empty.

Merlin opened the side door and slipped quietly inside, shutting it behind him, then turned around and froze. Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, and Agravaine were all watching him from their places near the throne.

Arthur frowned. " _Merlin_. So nice of you to join us," he drawled, obviously annoyed. Even as Merlin opened his mouth to speak, Arthur interrupted, "No, no, I don't care where you were. The tavern or the cells or Ealdor. Just get over here and shut up."

Agravaine lifted a curious eyebrow as Merlin jogged over to stand behind the prince. "Excuse me," he said, eyes shifting to Arthur, "but I thought you wished to speak of your father's failing health and the plague upon the city."

A nod. "I do."

"Then why wait for your servant? And why the secrecy?"

Arthur glanced at Merlin, his expression mildly confused. It was like being asked why you waited for your food to be placed in front of you before you ate it. Then his expression cleared and he frowned at his uncle. "Because what I'm about to say should not leave this room. If it must, then it will, but I hope we can settle it quietly."

"Settle?" Agravaine asked, uncertain. "Whatever do you mean?"

Arthur reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small vial full of dark liquid. Merlin barely held in his gasp or kept himself from glancing at Morgana. She'd found the poison Merlin had seen in his vision! Agravaine stared at the vial, as still as a statue, for several long moments. Then he seemed to come alive again and looked directly into Arthur's eyes.

"What is that, milord?"

The prince was not amused. "You know. This is the poison you have been feeding my father ever since you arrived those months ago. Not to mention mixing in with his medicine," the blonde accused.

"I don't know what you're-"

"I have several reliable sources who saw you in the act, and this vial was found in your room," Arthur interrupted. "Gaius has confirmed that my father is not suffering from the fever but from the effects of poison. This poison."

Agravaine narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, but kept up a noble stance. "Who are these sources?" he asked, simple curiosity in his voice.

"For their safety, they will remain unnamed. Simply know that I trust every single one of them," Arthur said. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Agravaine looked between the four others gathered with increasing anxiety. He was trapped and he knew it. "Would you not make a finer king than your father, my lord?" he asked. "You pulled the fabled sword from the stone-"

"That doesn't mean you kill the king," Merlin interrupted hotly, unable to stay silent. Anger was coursing through his veins at the admission from this snake-like man.

He'd been trying so hard to keep Uther alive. He'd been working himself ragged protecting Arthur, the city, and Uther while working for Gaius and being a manservant. Then Agravaine had to go and commit treason. Now Arthur's father was dying and it would take a miracle to save him.

His comment earned him a glare from the older man. "You do not talk back to me, boy. I am a lord. You are a servant and a traitor."

"Traitor? You're the traitor." Merlin glared.

Arthur's uncle turned to the prince now. "Merlin has-"

The throne room doors flew open, catching everyone's attention and cutting Agravaine off. A guard was there with Uther's personal servant. The servant boy looked shaken.

"The-the-the-" the servant stuttered.

"Our apologies for interrupting, milords, milady," the knight took over. His tone was grave, "but the king...He has passed away." He shuddered as he said it.

Arthur froze as still as a statue. Without a word, Gaius hurried from the room, taking the guard and servant with him and muttering to them as they went. Merlin watched Arthur closely, how his face shut down. Morgana placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder while a slimy, proud grin crept over Agravaine face.

"It seems that our plan has succeeded, even though I will not be around to see it end," he said, pleased.

As Arthur pulled his sword, swinging it at his father's murderer, Morgana shouted "Arthur, stop!"

The blade stopped bare inches from Agravaine's head. Arthur's breath heaved in and out and his sword shook as he glared at his uncle. When he pulled the sword away, Merlin took a step forward.

"Merlin," Arthur said in a low warning tone. His body was so taut that Merlin knew he wanted to scream and lash out, and letting Merlin get so close to a murderer was testing his control.

Merlin turned and gave Arthur a small shake of his head, then faced Agravaine again.

"No." Merlin glared at Agravaine's shocked expression. "You don't get to die. Not so easily," he snapped. "Do you know what you've done? Do you have any idea?" He shook his head. "I swear to you, your plan will not succeed. Uther may be gone, but you will not get his soul."

With a nod toward Arthur, Merlin turned and rushed from the room. He needed to speak to Gaius. No one tried to stop him. He heard Morgana call for the guards just before he was out of earshot.

...

...

Gaius looked up when Merlin entered. The look on his face was grave and a bit lost, and Merlin

remembered that Uther was once Gaius's best friend.

"Gaius-"

"There is nothing to be done," Gaius interrupted, adjusting the covers over Uther's chest. He didn't look at Merlin while he spoke. "The king has passed."

Merlin walked over and placed a hand on Gaius's shoulder. "I was going to say 'I'm sorry'," he said. When Gaius looked up at him, Merlin wrapped his mentor and uncle up in a hug. "I would have saved him if I could have."

The old man squeezed him tighter for a moment and then stepped back. His eyes were dry, but his voice was layered with sorrow. "I know." He cast a regretful look to Uther. "At least we caught the culprit."

Now Merlin frowned, and it wasn't from sorrow. "Agravaine was working with Morgause, and she summoned the Sluagh to take Uther's soul after he died," he revealed grimly.

Gaius paled. "Oh no."

A nod, and Merlin glanced at the deceased king. "I asked the dragon, but all he said was that 'they will come from the west.' I don't know how that helps us save Uther's soul."

The sky outside was already dark, but Merlin thought he could see a darker spot - a cloud - on the horizon. Maybe he was imagining it.

The chamber door opened and Morgana and Arthur walked in. The knight and the servant from before were in the hall, the knight ready to guard and the servant weeping. Morgana closed and locked the door behind them, blocking out the sound of tears.

She turned to face the males in the room, but her eyes focused on Merlin. "I did my part," she said. "Have you figured out how to stop the Sluagh?"

"What are Sluagh?" Arthur asked, voice quieter than Merlin ever remembered it being. His jaw was set and his expression was grim, but Merlin knew that was how Arthur kept from crying, kept up a brave face for the kingdom.

"Members of the Unseelie Court," Gaius added helpfully - or unhelpfully, as Arthur didn't know what that meant.

Merlin shook his head. "No," he answered Morgana. "All I know is that they're coming from the west."

The servant took a moment to look over his prince. Arthur was looking anywhere but at the bed, as if that would keep his father's demise from being real. He already seemed worn down with the weight of the world on his shoulders. His blue eyes alighted on the window and he motioned to it. "Is that west?" he asked, voice stronger this time but not quite with its usual fervor.

Everyone turned to the window now. Arthur was right. Uther's bedroom window faced almost directly west.

_"A curse is upon the Sluagh, who brought shame upon the Seelie Court. They can only unleash their terror if they come from the west."_

Merlin ran over and practically slammed the window shut. Then he dropped the heavy curtains, hiding the window from view.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Gaius asked, eyebrows raised.

As he spoke, Merlin made certain the window was completely covered. "The west. The Sluagh can only hurt someone if they come from the west. If they can't get in, they can't take his soul."

"Since when was my father's _soul_ in danger?" Arthur snapped, eyes frightened.

There was a brief silence after Arthur's outburst and then Merlin jumped into action without answering. "People are weak because of the fever. The Sluagh will be after them as well. The guards should tell everyone to shut their windows. To make it faster, just tell everyone to close every window, that way they don't have to explain."

Morgana nodded. "I'll give the orders." She glanced at Arthur, who still looked a bit bewildered, and then strode from the room with quiet but determined steps. Merlin didn't know what reasoning she would come up with for shutting the windows and he didn't care, as long as they were shut.

Now Merlin turned to the oldest man in the room. "Gaius, you should stay with the king," he continued. "I'm going out to try and stop the Sluagh, but if I fail then he'll need protection."

The elder man frowned. "Only the Seelie Court can stop the Sluagh."

"I can't defeat them," Merlin admitted, "but I can try and change their direction." He was already walking for the door. He'd done the impossible before and he would try it again tonight.

When he passed Arthur, the prince reached out and grabbed his arm. Merlin looked back with wide eyes, his heart jumping in his chest. Arthur gazed at him with a serious expression. "Take someone with you," he said.

"That would just put them in danger," Merlin countered.

Arthur frowned. "But if you go alone then you'll have no protection should things go wrong."

Merlin pulled his arm from Arthur's grip and instead rested his hand on the prince's shoulder. He made sure their eyes were locked before he said, "I have better chances on my own than surrounded by guards. You know that, Arthur. Besides, what would you tell them we were doing?"

For a long few moments, Arthur just stared at Merlin, almost without blinking. "I could come-"

"Arthur, no," Merlin interrupted. "You're of more use to your father here. If anything could hold his spirit to the earth, it's you."

That caught Arthur off guard. His gaze traveled to his father's pale face and closed eyes for several moments. Then he mirrored Merlin, setting his hand on Merlin's shoulder, and nodded at him with a grim expression. "Be careful."

A smile. "Aren't I always?"

"That's what I'm afraid of," Arthur said, his voice too somber for their usual level of snark.

...

...

The air was cold upon the battlement. The sounds of knights moving through the city, low talking, and windows shutting echoed up to him. There were no guards in view. Merlin looked up at Uther's dark window.

He knew Arthur would be up there, mourning his father, and his wished he could be there for him. His eyes fell to the city, to what he could see of Gwen's house. If she wasn't ill, she would probably be with Arthur too. Arthur would be king soon, and Merlin had no doubt that Gwen would become his queen. Knowing Arthur, he'd insist on courting Gwen first, even though it was obvious she would already say yes. And yet, despite knowing that they would be a good match, an excellent ruling pair, Merlin couldn't help but feel bittersweet about it. Would Arthur need Merlin once he had a wise wife at his side?

There was a change in the air and Merlin flipped his attention back to the west. His eyes flashed gold, time slowing down around him, and there! a cloud made of hundreds of small, dark faeries! They were at the far tree line but flying with the speed of stampeding horses. Merlin flung his hand out and a gust of wind burst forth from him. The wind hit the sluagh cloud, knocking a few of the sluagh sideways. Still they came. Merlin used his already outstretched hand and threw it to the side. Wind hit the cloud, pushing the sluagh several dozen feet over, but they continued to advance without pause.

They were almost to Camelot's walls now, only about fifty feet away and approaching fast. Merlin reached behind himself with his mind and forced every still open window to shut at once, westward facing or otherwise. He hit the sluagh once more with the wind, pushing them even further over. Then they reached the wall. The Sluagh were upon him and time sped back up.

"Agh!" Merlin gasped, feeling a dozen pairs of hands grab onto him all over. Tiny claws snatched at his clothes and skin and hair. He couldn't hear anything over the sound of all of their wings around him, a buzzing instead of a flapping, drowning out the world and his own thoughts.

One sluagh, face deformed and dark, grabbed Merlin's face. It was only slightly bigger than Merlin's head but it was an ugly, skeletal creature. It looked him in the eyes with its own black gaze and then sucked in a deep breath. The air going in whistled like a breeze through a cave. Suddenly Merlin felt like his chest was being squeezed, and then he was floating but his feet were still on the ground. Were they taking his soul?!

"No!" he shouted, but it didn't make a difference. Everything exploded into pain and then darkness.

...

...

Gaius stood by the window, silently observing the prince. Arthur was kneeling by his father's bedside, staring at his pale but calm features. He wasn't speaking or crying. He was just quiet. Gaius knew that if he were alone, Arthur would let himself weep. If the situation were not so dire, Gaius would leave and let him mourn properly. Hopefully there would be time for that later.

Suddenly there was a sound like small rocks hitting the glass of the window. Arthur's eyes snapped to the curtains, but aside from the noise nothing changed. He looked to Gaius for some sort of guidance as the noise grew louder and louder - as if more and more rocks were being tossed at once. Or as if there were dozens of nails tapping on the glass.

"Merlin?" the prince whispered, voice wrecked from the tears he wouldn't cry.

Gaius tried to school his expression into one of confidence, but he wasn't sure how well he succeeded. It wasn't just Arthur's friend out there. It was Gaius's nephew. "I'm sure he's...fine."

Arthur stood and drew his sword, moving around to stand in front of the window. His doctor frowned.

"Arthur-"

"If we're wrong and they break through that window, I will not let them take my father without a fight," Arthur declared. "I trust Merlin, and I know he'll fight them too. But if he fails," he hesitated for only half a moment, "then we are the king's last defense."

Gaius refrained from making a comment about who the king would be now that Uther was dead. It was too soon for such talk.

The window rattled like it would with a rough, strong wind, as if a twister had unexpectedly landed in Camelot. The two men in the room listened while the glass squeaked and clattered. A buzzing filled the air, coming from outside, growing louder along with the chaos of other noises. It seemed as if the glass would break at any moment, would shatter into a million pieces and unleash the Sluagh upon them.

Then, as abruptly as it began, all the noise stopped. Uther's chambers were left in an utter silence that left Gaius's ears ringing.

Both men continued to look at the window for several moments afterward. What did the silence mean? Arthur looked to Gaius, but the aging doctor was as unsure as he was. Where was Merlin? He would know the answer, for certain.

There was a knock at the door and a knight opened it. He wore a concerned expression. "Are you alright, your highness?" he asked.

Arthur took a deep breath and sheathed his sword before facing the knight. "Yes. We're fine in here. Do you know what that wind was?" he asked, playing dumb but in charge.

A negative shake of the head. "A gust of wind, I think, sire," he said. "It shook the windows in the hall, but no damage was done."

"Good then," the prince let out. "I need you to fetch Merlin for me."

The knight nodded. "As you wish, sire." And with a bow, he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

Arthur immediately hurried to the window, pushing the curtains aside. There was nothing on the windows, not even a scratch. Hesitantly, Arthur cracked one open. Nothing came rushing inside. Sticking his head out into the night air, Arthur looked around. This high up and this late at night, he could hardly see anything on the battlements below. He could not see Merlin.

His eyes searched the skies for the sluagh, regardless of the fact that he didn't know what they looked like, but saw nothing except open air and stars.

...

...

In the dungeons, Agravaine waited. There had been a commotion before but now it was silent. He could not hear the guards at the end of the hall, and at the moment there were no other prisoners around him. He was all alone. He was not afraid, though.

Light footsteps alerted him to a presence moments before the dark haired beauty entered his line of sight. He smiled.

"Ah, Lady Morgana," he said in the tone of voice he usually reserved for flattering.

The Lady was frowning. She kept her hands clasped in front of her and stayed two feet from the bars. "You are a fool."

Agravaine frowned now too. "My Lady," he said. "I know you hated the king just as much as any person, and rightly so. He would have seen you beheaded, or burnt at the stake. Now Camelot can fall to its rightful ruler."

"And I suppose you believe that working with Morgause and doing such terrible things will somehow put Arthur or myself on the throne and work in your favor," Morgana stated coolly.

"Of course it is meant to be you." Agravaine stood and held the bars in his hands. "Arthur pulled the sword from the stone, but he is still a Pendragon. He stood by and watched as his father committed atrocities, committing them right alongside him. Surely a magic user of noble blood, you yourself, would be a better fit for the kingdom."

For a long while, Morgana simply stared at Agravaine. He stood like a nobleman and he spoke like a snake.

She made sure to look down her nose at him. "If you're expecting Morgause to come save you, she won't," she stated. "Morgause does not care for men, unless they are magic. You were a pawn for her schemes and now that you have been found out, she will leave you to die."

"No."

Agravaine's expression was so resolute, so certain, that Morgana actually felt pity for him. She shook her head.

"I am not the one destined to rule this land, Agravaine. Arthur may be a Pendragon, but so am I. That is how I know that Arthur...Arthur will bring Camelot into a golden age, where magic and man live in harmony," she said. "You, however, will not be part of it."

The look that crossed Agravaine's face was a mix between pleased and frightened. It was odd.

"Are you going to kill me, Morgana?" he asked in a sly whisper, like a dare.

And oh, did she consider it. There would be work involved to keep Arthur from falling into depression from his father's sudden passing at the hands of a loved one. His trust in people would be fractured. But he had her, he had Gaius, he had his knights, and he had Gwen. He had Merlin, always Merlin. They would make it through this. But for now, Arthur would be emotional and perhaps a bit unstable.

She gave an almost twisted smile. "No. When Arthur commands it, you will face the executioner's axe. In the meantime, I will leave you here to rot, sleeping in darkness and filth with the rats like the vermin you are," she said darkly.

Then she turned and began walking away. Agravaine did not call out to her, but she knew he watched her go.

...

...

Something sharp poked his cheek and Merlin jolted, throwing his arms out. It wasn't until the light registered that he realized the sluagh were gone and he calmed. He took in several deep breaths, his chest aching with each one. It felt like his body was in two places at once, and he couldn't tell which place held his heart or head.

"Merlin?"

Gaius. His voice was so near, but Merlin couldn't see him, even with his eyes wide open. He couldn't call out to his mentor either. Everything hurt. The light seemed fractured in front of his eyes. He couldn't tell where he was. Was this his bedroom? The throne room? The battlements? The forest? It was so bright.

Something touched his forehead, but Merlin hadn't seen it coming. It was soft, a barely there presence. "The sluagh did this," a voice said. It took entirely too long for Merlin to realize it belonged to Morgana. It felt like her voice was coming to him through water. The thing on his forehead had left now. "His body is here, but his soul...He's very far away."

"Can we get it back?" Gaius asked, voice quiet like he thought there was no hope.

"I can..."

Morgana's voice drifted away from him. It hurt to try and keep listening. It hurt to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't blink no matter how hard he tried. It hurt to think. It hurt to breathe. Or was he breathing at all? He couldn't feel his body, his arms or legs or heartbeat.

All of a sudden the pain intensified a thousand fold. Merlin's mouth dropped open but he couldn't scream. He was being torn apart! His fingers spasmed against the bed sheets. He could feel the bed sheets. He could feel his fingers. And the light was blending like a mirror fixing itself, making Merlin dizzy and nauseated. As the pain lessened, Merlin could see the roof of his bedroom. He could hear his own harsh breathing and feel how his chest was heaving rapidly. It didn't hurt anymore.

His breathing slowly calmed. He took one last deep breath, his heart still racing, and held it, shutting his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages. When he let it out again, he lifted his head just a little and looked at the rest of his room.

Morgana had her hands hovering just over Merlin's chest. Her hair was falling out of its pins and she was wearing the same outfit Merlin had seen her in the night before. Was it the night before? Gaius was by the window, also in his old clothes. They both looked tired.

Merlin tried to smile but couldn't find the strength. He let his head fall back to his pillow and huffed out a breath. "Hi."

"Hi, yourself," Morgana scoffed playfully as Gaius hurried to stand closer to the servant.

"Merlin, we were so worried," the old man said wearily.

Merlin looked him over and frowned. "What happened? The sluagh? The king?" he asked, his voice getting more frantic with each question.

Gaius and Morgana both put their hands on his torso to keep him down. "The king is safe, Merlin. I don't know how you did it, but you got rid of the sluagh," Gaius said.

"They tried to take your soul," Morgana picked up. "You must've had a swarm of them on you, if the scratches on your face mean anything. You gave Arthur a fright when he saw you." Merlin moved to touch his face but couldn't lift his arm past the two people holding him down. "Lucky for us, you're much too strong willed to lose your soul to the Unseelie Court."

He shook his head. "I don't remember what I did," he admitted. "I was trying to knock them off course with the wind, but they just kept coming. And then they were on me...It felt like they were pulling me outside of myself...and then...I don't know. I panicked."

For a moment, no one spoke. Morgana and Gaius shared a look, and then the Lady stood back from Merlin, wiping her hands together and folding them in front of her.

"Well, whatever you did last night, I felt its power. You frightened off a pack of sluagh and then walked all the way back to the king's chambers before collapsing, with your soul half missing," she informed him. "I'm glad that we're on the same side now. If I were Morgause, I'd be shaking in my boots." She grinned after her tease and then turned to leave. "Now get some rest, you fool."

Merlin caught her wrist and she gave him a startled look. He smiled. "Thank you."

He knew she was the reason he was back to normal, why the pain had stopped. She must have done something to reattach his soul to his body. He would be eternally grateful to her for it.

Morgana had a faint but endearing blush on her face as she left. Merlin then pushed himself up, regardless of Gaius's whining. "I need to go to Arthur," he huffed, already exhausted.

Gaius made a tutting sound. "And I am sure he would be grateful to see you as well, but you will be of no use to him if you collapse in the halls and further injure yourself. Besides, Arthur is mourning in the great hall. You can't see him right now."

"No." Merlin shook off Gaius's hands and stood up. His legs felt like jelly, but they were getting stronger by the second. "No, Gaius, you don't understand. I need to."

For a long while, the older and younger man just stared at one another. Merlin wouldn't be swayed, even if he had to fight his uncle off or crawl to Arthur, he would go. Finally, Merlin's determined gaze won out and Gaius sighed.

"Alright alright. At least let me go with you in case you stumble," he acquiesced.

Arthur needed to mourn now, Merlin understood that. But Arthur would also need to know he was not alone. He needed to know he still had people around him who would do anything for him. He still had friends and family to help him. Perhaps tomorrow Gwen would be well enough, now that the curse was over, to go and visit him. Perhaps soon Morgana would have a talk with him. But Merlin fully intended to be nearby for whenever Arthur was ready.

...

...

tbc

...

...

**Next Time: Dawn of a New Age**

_With Uther's death, the dawn of a new age is upon all of Albion. But before Arthur takes the throne of the future, he decides to travel back to his birthplace and lay to rest the ghosts of his past. Secrets are revealed and an old friend appears, this time as a prince. Arthur has an announcement to make._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ic ingecégan geweald þæs eald ǣfæstnes. Ingerǽcan gesihþ tō mec. Lǽdan mec tō þæs héafod ond ácýðan þæs sceaða. = I invoke power of the Old Religion. Give sight to me. Guide me to the origin and proclaim the enemy.
> 
> Once again, I don't actually know old English.


	6. Dawn of a New Age

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Uther's death, the dawn of a new age is upon all of Albion. But before Arthur takes the throne of the future, he decides to travel back to his birthplace and lay to rest the ghosts of his past. Secrets are revealed and an old friend appears, this time as a prince. Arthur has an announcement to make.

It was Arthur's first journey after his father's death. After the funeral, after a brief mourning period of almost two weeks, after the nobles had all gone home, after Agravaine's execution, that's when he left. Back in Camelot, Sir Leon, Gaius, and Geoffrey were getting ready for a coronation. Out in the wilds, Arthur and his entourage were riding southwest.

Morgana and Gwen had chosen to accompany him and his knights on their ride. He'd thought about making Morgana stay home to help with the coronation and the celebration, but he was glad he'd let them come, now. His sister's acerbic quips kept things interesting and she didn't let silence take hold for too long. He, Morgana, Gwen, and Merlin made up the front of the traveling party, with a dozen knights following behind for protection. With Merlin along for the ride, Arthur didn't think the knights were necessary, but he wasn't about to share that information.

Merlin was like a child who had received a desired toy after months and months of waiting. As soon as he'd heard they were headed for the place of Arthur's birth he'd started smiling. Even three days later, whenever their destination was mentioned, once again his face would break into a wide, toothy smile. Merlin's excitement lifted Arthur's spirits a bit, though the heavy cloud left from his father's passing remained, but it was still curious.

"It's exciting," Merlin had said when first asked about it. "I'll see where you were born."

Even Morgana telling him that Arthur had only spent a grand total of a week in Tintagel before leaving for Camelot didn't dampen his enthusiasm.

"But it's where his mother lived and where he was born. That makes it special."

As the days passed and they grew closer to the old castle, Merlin's glee only seemed to grow. He went about his duties with a skip in his step. It was infectious and the knights and Gwen were soon smiling and chatting amiably as well.

"I just feel like something amazing is waiting for you in Tintagel," Merlin had confided in him the night before, seated next to Arthur by the dying fire.

Arthur hadn't had the heart to tell him off. The knowledge that soon he would be in the place where his mother died, so soon after the death of his father...It had put him in a rather somber mood.

Beside him, Merlin suddenly stiffened in his saddle, his smile freezing on his face. Arthur cast him a curious look, but before he could comment on the change Morgana spoke.

"We've arrived," she announced calmly, her tone just as it had been for the entire trip.

They came to the edge of the forest abruptly, the trees cutting off almost without warning. And there, standing before them at the top of a hill on the edge of a cliff, was the castle. Time had already taken its toll: the stones were beginning to crumble, the grounds were overgrown, the glass in every window was broken. Still, the sight of the old castle warmed Arthur's heart. This was where he was born, where his mother grew up.

No one had visited Tintagel since his mother's death, since the purge began. Still, Arthur knew he had to come back here before he could take his place on the throne. It held answers to questions Arthur didn't have the words to ask.

...

...

It was easy enough to find the nursery: the room that was supposed to have been his. There were still tapestries on the wall, a rug in front of a barren hearth. A basket sized bed for his newborn body was on its side on the floor. Arthur righted it and then just stared.

_"When I last held you, you were a tiny baby."_

Arthur closed his eyes, remembering the meeting Morgause had given him with his mother. Merlin had told him it wasn't really his mother, and his father had claimed it all to be lies as well. And yet...

_"I remember your eyes. You were staring up at me. Those few seconds I held you were the most precious of my life."_

That had been his mother. He could feel it in his heart. Perhaps her words were false, perhaps Morgause did something to turn her spirit against his father, but he was certain that it was his real mother's arms he'd been held in.

What had he been hoping to find in this castle? In this room? Absolution?

"It's a lovely room."

Arthur jumped to a standing position, almost upending the tiny bed once more. He let out a shaky breath when he saw that it was Gwen in the room with him. She smiled at his shock.

"Guinevere," he said, calming down. "I didn't hear you come in."

The servant girl simply nodded her head, clasping her hands lightly in front of herself. Her eyes flicked around the room, while Arthur's eyes stayed fixed upon her. When her eyes found his again, her cheeks reddened, making her skin look warmer than usual. She quickly lowered her gaze to the floor and cleared her throat.

"Do...Do you remember it? Tintagel?" she asked cautiously, glancing up at him through her hair, falling free from its updo.

"Hm? Oh." Arthur looked at the open doorway beyond Gwen instead of at her. "No. After my mother..." He cleared his throat. "My father moved us to Camelot right after the funeral. All of my memories are from there. Tintagel was my mother's home. Once she was gone, my father never came back."

Gwen stepped further into the room, her hand drifting along the wall and the broken table in the middle of the room. The air was silent around them.

She stopped several steps away. "Are you worried about being king?" she asked quietly.

Arthur opened his mouth to say 'yes' but paused and shut it, thinking. There were many things about being king that his father had sheltered him from. But after he pulled the sword from the stone, his father had given him more tasks to complete, more knowledge to learn. That wasn't to say he was a master of all that being a king entailed, but he was much more prepared for it than he might have been otherwise.

And he had Merlin. And Morgana. Morgana was practically his sister and a talented seer, who had promised to protect him. Merlin was the powerful sorcerer prophesized to stand by his side and help him bring a golden age to Camelot, to Albion. Besides which, he was Arthur's closest companion and most trusted confidant.

That prophesy was a lot to live up to, but both Merlin and Morgana thought he was up to the job. Gaius had mentioned his faith in Arthur once or twice as well. So...Arthur believed he could do it. With their help, he could become the king they all saw in him.

A gentle smile graced his lips, which seemed to surprise Gwen. "A bit. But I have so many good people to help me, I know everything will be alright."

"Ah, yes," Gwen agreed with a nod. "You have Morgana, Gaius, Merlin," she said like that was obvious, "the knights, Geoffrey, the council. You'll be a magnificent king."

It was clear to Arthur what Gwen wasn't saying. She was doubting her own worth.

He took a step forward and placed a gloved hand on her shoulder. She jumped, eyes snapping to his face, and he smiled. "Guinevere, I also have you. You have done so much for me over the years. I would not be who I am today without all of you - Merlin, Morgana, the knights, everyone. Including you."

Her eyes glistened in the fading light through the broken window. "Arthur," she whispered, "I am just a servant."

"True," Arthur agreed. "But I value your counsel, just like Merlin. You may be a servant Guinevere, but that is not all you are. You are a trusted friend."

And there, in the room where Arthur was born, he held a servant close. One day, his court would hold more than just those with noble birth, and Gwen would stand as a Lady. Then, with his knights and Merlin, he would have all of those he held dear at his side, always.

...

...

Morgana was worried about Merlin.

Nothing had happened, not yet at any rate, but she was still worried. As they had approached Tintagel Castle, she had felt the latent magic it held. Before the purge, Tintagel had been a city teeming with magic, and it seemed that the magic had stayed there even as the city emptied of life. It called to the magic inside of her, made her feel like she could level mountains on a whim. Merlin was so much more powerful than Morgana. She could only imagine the effect it was having on him.

She'd noticed how he sat up straighter, stiffer, in his saddle as they rode into the old courtyard. Before they arrived, he had joked with her, Gwen, and the knights. Now he was silent. He followed every order given to him without comment or complaint; setting up their sleeping bags, lighting the fire, cooking dinner. It wasn't like him. His cheerful mood had gone out like a candle in a storm.

With a quiet breath, Morgana stood from her seat on an old stone bench and made her way over to Merlin. He had just finished cleaning the dishes they'd used for dinner and now was stoking the fire.

"Wouldn't you normally use a quicker method?" she asked quietly, settling herself on the ground beside him. She was glad she was wearing traveling pants instead of one of her usual gowns.

Merlin's shoulders were stiff. "I can't," he replied, the words barely slipping past his lips. Just as Morgana opened her mouth to ask why, he looked up at her. "Morgana," he breathed out, like a plea.

She barely held in her gasp. Merlin's normally blue eyes were riddled with gold. Morgana could almost read the runes of the Old Religion in the lines of molten gold across his irises. Her hand instantly found his on the stone beside the fire pit and clenched. The gold slowly faded, but it didn't disappear entirely.

"It's right beneath the surface, isn't it?" she asked.

A nod. "It wants to be used. It...It needs to be used. There's so much magic here..." He shut his eyes. When he next spoke, his voice was sad and a bit bitter. "This is where the Purge started. So many good sorcerers died here. And all that's left is their magic."

Morgana squeezed his hand, trying to reassure him but not sure if she helped at all. Merlin's shoulders were still tense, and his eyes kept flickering more and less gold every few seconds. But she understood that he was fighting with himself. He was concentrating everything on not using the magic that ran through his veins like blood.

"I wish I could help you, Merlin," she whispered, tilting her head a bit toward him.

He shook his head. "It's fine. I'll work it out." He blinked and a curious look crossed his face. "Sir Urien?"

The knight in question was across the courtyard, behind Merlin. He was rummaging around in his horse's pack for something, but his gaze kept trailing over to them by the fire. Morgana's eyebrows came together in confusion at the same moment that Merlin pulled his hand away from hers and stood up. He was shaky on his feet but shook his head at her before she'd managed to even open her mouth to offer assistance.

"I just...I need a moment." With that, Merlin walked away.

Morgana watched him go, still confused. Why had he mentioned Sir Urien? There were twelve knights milling around in the courtyard, and Urien was behind him. Turning around, she caught Urien watching her, and then he jumped and started rummaging through his saddlebags again.

Wait.

...

...

Arthur was walking Gwen back toward the rest of their traveling party when they saw him. Merlin was walking down a corridor all by himself - well, walking maybe wasn't the right word. It was almost like he was floating. His normally loud footsteps were silent and he seemed dazed and lost.

"Merlin?" Gwen called out, but her fellow servant didn't react in the slightest. He just turned a corner and vanished. "What's wrong with him?"

The prince shook his head. "I'm not sure, but I'll find out."

He walked around the corner, leaving Gwen behind, making sure not to run but moving quickly to catch up. Yet somehow Merlin was always just far enough ahead that he was turning a corner at the same moment Arthur spotted him. The only sound Arthur heard was made by his own feet against the stones, his own breathing in the air. The silence made him feel like he was chasing a ghost, and that idea chilled the prince to his heart. This place where he had lost his mother, and Arthur had just lost his father. The idea that he could lose Merlin as well...

Then Arthur followed Merlin around another corner and found a set of open doors. It was the throne room.

Tintagel's throne room was not nearly as large or lavish as Camelot's, but it still made Arthur's eyes widen when he walked inside. The walls were bare, the great windows only filled with broken glass, and no furniture or statuary decorated the walls. There were no thrones at the top of the steps on the far side of the room, just empty stone flooring. And Merlin. Merlin was standing where the thrones would be, gazing up at the dark ceiling, his back to Arthur.

"Merlin," Arthur called.

There was no response. It as if Merlin were not even there, though Arthur was staring directly at him. Again he thought of a ghost, and his pulse quickened. With swift steps, Arthur closed the space between them and grabbed Merlin's shoulder, spinning him around. Merlin's eyes had been shut, but at Arthur's touch they shot open. There was a brief glimpse of familiar blue before his eyes flared golden, brighter than Arthur had ever seen them.

"Arthur," Merlin said quietly, a small smile alighting on his lips. "The magic. I can show you. It wants to show you."

"What wants to show me what?" Arthur managed to get out, his voice weaker than he remembered it. What was going on?

As if in answer to Arthur's question, a pulse shot out from Merlin without him ever moving a muscle. It ruffled Arthur's hair and made his stomach roll, but not unpleasantly. Another gasp caught his attention and Arthur turned, his hand still on Merlin's shoulder, to see Gwen had followed him. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes closed, her hair still fluttering in the strange wind the pulse created.

Dammit. Gwen didn't know about Merlin's magic yet. Arthur turned back to his servant, intending to try and stop him, but it was too late.

Gold flaked off Merlin's body while shining golden tendrils snuck out to lick the outermost parts of the room. The room was bathed in golden light, all emanating from Merlin. Then the flakes began to form shapes, bodies, objects. And all of a sudden the room was full of color. The walls were clean and bright sunlight flooded in through the many sparkling glass windows around the room. The thrones were just behind where Merlin and Arthur stood, and a grand red rug covered the ground from the bottom of the steps to the doors they had entered through. There were tapestries on the walls, stained glass in the tallest windows, tables with priceless artifacts around the room. Servants walked around with trays covered in goblets and plates, leaving through the servant doors in the back.

And there, just at the bottom of the stairs, stood Ygraine and Uther. The woman who had tried to kill Arthur in the Cave of Balor so long ago stood before them. She said something and a beaming smile broke out across Ygraine's face before she turned, grabbed Uther, and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. The witch smiled warmly at them, but it was also a bit sad, nostalgic.

The gold flaked away to nothing and Arthur gasped, panicking, as his parents vanished before his eyes. But just as quickly, they were back.

This time, his mother's belly was rounded in pregnancy. His father's face was young and happy and bright. He rubbed gentle circles over Ygraine's stomach and said something without a voice. The witch placed a hand on his shoulder. When she spoke, Arthur caught the words "boy" and "son."

This was his birth. His mother was pregnant with him in this silent vision.

His father and mother both said "Thank you" at the same time, and then laughed and rested their foreheads together.

The witch shook her head with a smile. Arthur didn't catch everything she said, his lip reading needed work, but it was familiar enough that he understood her message. How many times had Merlin given him some speech about how he would be at Arthur's side? The witch was assuring them of her loyalty, until death.

The people faded away once more, but Arthur kept his eyes fixed to where they'd been. He only looked away when something, a goblet, flew by him. His father looked furious, his face red and purple, scrunched up in rage. The witch stumbled away from him, almost tripping over her long skirts. She shook her head swiftly back and forth, but Arthur couldn't see her face.

Uther pursued her and she turned, rushing around the thrones closer to where Arthur stood. That's when he saw the tear tracks on her face, the fear and regret in her eyes. She stopped and turned to face Uther.

"It wasn't supposed to end this way!" she silently shouted. Then she gestured to herself and Arthur caught the words "life" and "hers." She'd intended to give her life, but his mother's was taken instead?

 _"To create a life, a life must be taken,"_ his mother's words rang in his ears from long ago.

Uther stormed up to the witch, grabbing for her, but she swiftly hurried out of reach. The king now stood just in front of Arthur, his expression angrier than Arthur had ever seen it. His mouth moved so fast that there was no hope of catching what he said, but the witch frowned in response, some of her fear leaving her.

"I am not alone in this blame," she said, slowly, and Arthur swore he could hear her voice. Regretful but with that bitterness he'd heard in the caves seeping in.

Their figures faded like sand in an hourglass, and instead Arthur saw his mother and father once more. They were younger, the lines gone from their faces. They were around Arthur's current age, if he had to guess. Ygraine laughed, grabbing at Uther's hand and tugging. Uther chuckled and followed willingly and she spun him around in the throne room before dragging him from the room, her skirts and his cape flying behind them.

"Arthur?" Gwen squeaked, voice high and wavering, as they ran right through her.

Arthur gasped, suddenly remembering that Gwen was there, that this was all a vision. "Guinevere," he said, pulling his hand from Merlin's shoulder at last.

Immediately the room went dark, the magic fading from around them. It felt like the bottom had dropped out of Arthur's stomach and he was left gasping. He quickly hurried over to Gwen, taking her seeking hands. She was shaking.

"Arthur, what just happened? Merlin-" she cut herself off, throwing a hand up to cover her mouth.

They both glanced over to Merlin, as one, and saw him holding his head. He stumbled down the steps and then fell to sit on them without any grace, sprawled across the broken stone. At the same time he hit the stone, the lower windows repaired themselves.

Arthur moved to go to Merlin but Gwen held fast to his arm, stopping him. When he looked over his shoulder at her, she looked frightened.

"Guine-"

"He's-" she gasped. "Merlin is...I'm sure it wasn't...He didn't...," she struggled, her fingers clenching tighter to his arm. "Arthur, please don't hurt him."

That caught Arthur off guard. Gwen thought he was going to hurt Merlin? Oh. Of course. She didn't know that Arthur knew about the magic. He placed his left hand over hers on his right arm and gave her a reassuring look. "I'm not going to hurt him. I promise."

He saw the hope in her eyes and gently pried her hands off his arm. When he made to go to Merlin this time, he brought Gwen with him. They dropped down on either side of where he was sitting, head down and cradled in his hands.

"Merlin?" Gwen asked, reaching out and tentatively touching Merlin's shoulder. Her touch was so light that it barely creased Merlin's clothing. Gold flaked off his clothes again, like settling dust, and the cracked stones around them became whole once more. "A-are you...alright?"

Was she scared of Merlin now too?

"Gwen," Merlin whined, not looking up at her. "I'm sorry. I should've told you. I'm so- I promise I'm not- I was born with this," he spewed out in a rush.

The hesitation left Gwen's expression at his babbled explanation and she smiled. "It's alright. I've known since the day I first met you that you were one of the kindest, bravest men I would ever meet. That's as true today as it was then. We're friends, Merlin."

That got him to look up. His eyes were mostly blue now, with strange strings of gold across the irises. He let go of his head long enough to wrap Gwen up in a tight embrace that lasted several long moments. Her hair re-braided into her usual style with a swirl of faint blue light. Merlin pulled away and covered his eyes with his hands with a low groan. "My magic is going mad."

"What do you mean, 'mad'?" Arthur asked.

He didn't want to touch Merlin in case that caused the room to glitter again instead of these small acts. He wasn't sure what exactly caused that first big reaction, but he didn't want to take any chances. Those had been his parents in the visions, so it must have had something to do with him. Gwen's touch didn't seem to have the same effect. She could offer the comfort they both wanted to give.

"This place is coated in magic. My magic wants to respond to it. I can barely hold it in," Merlin explained in a quiet voice and ran his hands through his short hair, turning his strange gaze on Arthur now.

"You're not holding it in very well now," Arthur noted, not unkindly, as the weeds growing around the room withered and faded away.

Merlin took several deep breaths and the throne room stopped repairing itself. "I'll get it...I can stop it again, it just...It hurts not to just let it go," he revealed with an embarrassed flush.

Arthur nodded. "We'll leave in the morning." Gwen gave him a somewhat startled look and Arthur just nodded again in confirmation. "I think I've gotten all I ever could from this place."

Gwen and Merlin had helped him with that. Gwen had reminded him of all those he had at his side to help him. She had also proven that people could accept sudden changes and keep moving forward. Seeing his parents so young and happy together had given him hope, and the knowledge of what had happened to them gave him prudence.

Seeing Nimueh as she once was, Court Sorcerer to Camelot, was a gift as well. Her grief over what happened was the last tiny link in an armor protecting Arthur from his doubts about magic. Merlin and Morgana were not outliers. Magic users were just people - loyal, hardworking, given to making mistakes, human.

He could return to Camelot with the confidence in his past, his present, and his future to be the king Albion deserved. Coming to Tintagel had been a great idea.

...

...

Gwen and Arthur helped Merlin walk back to their camp in the courtyard together. As he said, Merlin stopped letting his magic out before they ever saw a hint of their traveling party, though the halls were a bit cleaner leading to the throne room than they had been and there were a few patches of purple and red flowers along the way.

They sat Merlin by the fire next to Morgana, who began to fret over him like a mother hen.

"What happened?" Sir Pelleas asked in concern.

"What _ever_ happens to Merlin?" Arthur responded. "He fell while wandering around the throne room and hurt himself." He gave a great put upon sigh. "We'll head back toward Camelot tomorrow. It wasn't a bad fall, but I'd rather let Gaius decide if Merlin's mental affliction has become a physical one."

Merlin glared at him from his seat. "I'm a physician too," he insisted, then quickly looked back at the fire to hide the glow in his eyes.

"In training," Sir Pellinore pointed out. "And we all know how stubborn you can be when it comes to injuries."

"All against me," Merlin muttered to the flames. The knights chuckled.

Sir Urien walked over to Arthur. "Are you sure, milord? Did you finish up your business here at Tintagel already?"

Arthur looked around the courtyard. The castle was dying, but not dead. It was like a symbol that things would get better, because even this place was just waiting to wake up. All it needed was the right person. He nodded.

"Yes. Yes I have. Though I'm sorry to have brought you all so far for such a short trip."

Merlin was made to lie down and rest - a royal order so he might actually obey - and only a few minutes later the knights decided to turn in as well. The moon was rising and they would be leaving at first light. As was usual on long journeys, Arthur took first watch. Once he was king, he would likely never take watch at all, but for now he was still the prince.

He watched Merlin sleep, how his fingers twitched sporadically and he murmured quiet nonsense. Other than his shaking hands and muttered words, Merlin appeared very calm. All they needed to do was get him out of Tintagel and he'd be fine.

He watched Morgana sleep too. She was lying with the top of her head near the top of Merlin's, but with her feet far from him. It was weird, seeing them positioned that way, as if they were mirrors of one another. Morgana was utterly still in slumber.

Gwen wasn't sleeping. She walked over to sit by Arthur, just outside of the circle of firelight. The moon was bright enough that he could see her rather clearly anyway. They remained quiet for a few moments, and then Arthur broke it.

"You should be sleeping. We have a long trip to-"

"You already knew about Merlin, didn't you?" she asked suddenly, cutting him off.

Arthur didn't hesitate to give a slow nod. "Yes. For over half a year now." The dark skinned girl frowned and Arthur frowned with her. "It was not my secret to tell," he explained. "And I'm not sure Merlin knows how to tell it."

"He told you," she whispered.

He shrugged. "In a way. But I had to confront him, when there was no way he could deny it, before he finally told me outright." Though he liked to think the speech at the lake was Merlin's way of beginning his confession anyway.

Gwen nodded and looked across the courtyard at her friend. For a long while there was silence, save for a few crickets and a single owl call. Arthur glanced from Gwen's pensive face to Merlin's sleep-calm one and wondered what she saw when she looked at him, now that she knew.

"Does Morgana know?" Gwen asked, her voice quiet in the dark.

Arthur took a deep breath and let it out slowly. By the time he was done, Gwen was looking at him again. He shrugged. "You would have to ask her about that. I'm not sure what exactly she knows about Merlin."

"The knights?"

"They don't know," Arthur said with confidence. "If any of them know and Merlin hasn't told me, I'll have him thrown in the dungeons for a week, and he knows it."

That earned him a laugh out of Gwen, so he considered the evening won. She sighed, sounding much more content than before, and rubbed her legs just for something to do with her hands.

"Well, that's good to know," she said lightly. There was a short pause in their conversation and then she continued, "So, I guess I...I should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

Arthur nodded. He enjoyed talking with Gwen, but she did need her sleep. And it seemed that, at least tonight, all she'd needed from him was reassurance that she hadn't been left out on purpose. "Sleep well."

"You as well," Gwen said before walking as gracefully as possible over to where she'd left her bedroll, head to feet with Sir Leon.

...

...

Sir Bedivere met them when they returned to Camelot. Sir Leon and Gwen walked Merlin off toward Gaius's chambers, even as he insisted he was fine. Arthur met Bedivere on the stairs of the courtyard.

"My lord," Bedivere greeted with a deep bow. "A guest arrived while you were away."

Arthur blinked curiously and glanced to Morgana and back to Bedivere. "Who is this guest?"

"I gave my word that I would return for your coronation, did I not?" a familiar, deep voice greeted.

Arthur, Morgana, and Bedivere looked toward the main doors. Standing in the doorway was a young man with light brown hair that curled and went almost to his shoulders, with the top layer pulled back into a low ponytail. His face was youthful and his eyes shown with amusement.

"Prince Tristan," Arthur greeted, smiling and walking up the steps to shake his hand. "It's been a while."

Tristan shrugged. "Almost a year," he agreed amiably. He nodded toward Gaius's tower. "Trouble?"

Arthur glanced over in time to see the door shut behind Merlin and Leon. "The kind only Merlin can manage," he said, looking back at his guest.

Tristan searched his face for a few silent moments, and then clapped him on the shoulder and smiled. "Good." Before Arthur could ask him what that meant, he continued, "My father, King Mark, is here as well. He's been keen to meet you ever since I told him of our adventure together."

That got a laugh out of Arthur and the two men began heading inside. Morgana trailed behind them, curious. King Mark was waiting in the meeting hall with a beautiful strawberry-blonde woman wearing a simple silver crown. They were chatting quietly when Tristan, Arthur, and Morgana walked in, but King Mark smiled broadly upon seeing them.

"Ah, your highness!" he greeted boisterously. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you, though I am sorry it is because of such sad circumstances."

They clasped hands firmly. "King Mark, the pleasure is mine," Arthur greeted in return.

The aging king stepped back and gestured to the woman beside him. "May I introduce my lovely wife, Iseult. She hails from the land across the sea, the strange but beautiful Ireland."

Arthur accepted her hand when she offered it and planted a quick kiss to the back of it, then released. "A pleasure. And this is the Lady Morgana. She, sadly, hails from the good walls of Camelot," he said, passing a teasing smile at Morgana while she held out her hand to King Mark. Morgana barely resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, instead raising her eyebrow at him.

"My lady," King Mark said quietly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as Arthur had done. "Your highness," he addressed Arthur once the greetings were over, "I must offer you my dearest thanks. I would have done so sooner, but I felt they would be best served in person."

"What for?" Arthur asked.

Tristan cleared his throat quietly behind Arthur but didn't speak. King Mark gave an amused smile.

"You do not know? Well, you are an even better suited king for it, then," he began. "Tristan had run off without a word of warning, and I did not see him for over a year. I feared the worst. Then one day he was back, as suddenly as he had disappeared, with a story about meeting Prince Arthur Pendragon. He tells me you inspire loyalty in people you have never met before, both noble and peasant alike."

Red appeared in Arthur's cheeks. He'd heard similar phrases before, but he was always caught off guard. To him, the way he acted and the things he said rarely seemed odd. He acted the way a prince or king ought to act. That was all.

If anyone inspired loyalty in people it was Merlin. How many times had they gone off on some journey and Merlin had charmed the people they met with his guile? Or Gwen. Gwen had the love of most of the townspeople in Camelot. In his opinion, those two peasants deserved such praise much more than he did, but he couldn't say that to a king.

"Thank you, my lord," Arthur accepted with a bow of his head. "May I inquire as to the reason behind your visit to Camelot?"

King Mark gave the slightest frown in confusion. "Is it not your coronation soon? I hear that you will be king by the end of the week."

A nod. "Yes, that is true."

Tristan stepped forward just enough that he could turn and look Arthur in the eyes. "On the day of your coronation, my father wishes to also sign a treaty with you, allying Camelot with Cornwall. And I will become a knight in your famous army."

"Ah," Arthur let out. "Well then, King Mark, there are some matters we need to discuss."

"Dear Arthur plans to make announcements during his coronation," Morgana broke in as Arthur trailed off. She smiled when all the attention turned to her and stood taller. "I don't believe you'll have any argument against his plans, but he is an honorable man and simply wishes to have your approval before writing up the treaty for signing."

Arthur passed her a grateful look. The foreign king gave something akin to a shrug and looked between the siblings.

"I see. Well then, shall we move to a more comfortable location?"

It was a request, one you might give to someone in your own castle, and he faltered after it was out of his mouth, probably remembering that he was in Camelot and not Cornwall. Arthur nodded in assent, and the foreign king's shoulders fell just a little in relief.

"Yes. If you will follow me," Arthur said, leading the way out of the room.

...

...

The number of nobles that had come to see Arthur crowned King was astounding. The throne room was packed to bursting with men baring more than two dozen different sigils. The servants were standing at their entrance door, prepared to help if needed but out of the way in the hall. Merlin was inside, standing next to a window with Gaius and Gwen. The knights were along the edges of the walkway that Arthur would walk down in just a few moments. Geoffrey was in front of the throne, a crown in his hand, waiting.

The heavy wooden doors of the throne room were pulled open and all eyes glanced back as Arthur entered. Without a word and with barely a sound, he made his way between the overstuffed crowds of people toward the steps leading to the thrones. No one spoke, but they all watched in interest.

Instead of ascending the steps, Arthur knelt at them. Geoffrey stepped closer to him and asked, "Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the people of Camelot according to their respective laws and customs?"

"I solemnly swear so to do."

"Will you, to your power, cause law and justice in mercy to be executed in all your judgments?"

"I will," Arthur promised with feeling.

Geoffrey lifted the crown. "Then by the sacred law vested in me, I crown you, Arthur Pendragon, King of Camelot."

The crown was set in place on Arthur's golden blonde hair. It was heavier than it looked but lighter than he'd expected it to feel. The bookkeeper stepped back and away. Then the new king stood and turned to face his people. As one, the crowd chanted:

"Long live the king! Long live the king! Long live the king!"

Arthur lifted his hand and those gathered fell silent. He nodded his thanks before speaking.

"It is the greatest honor to be your king," he began, eyes scanning the crowd. "I made a promise when accepting this crown, one to uphold law and justice in mercy, and to govern my people according to their respective laws and customs. This does not only apply to the general populace of Camelot and her allies. This applies to the often overlooked people within Camelot as well. So today, as my first act as king, I have two proclamations."

There was a shift in the crowd. Most were curious while some were nervous. This was a bit unorthodox and they weren't sure how to feel about it. Merlin took a deep breath, feeling his heart beating rapidly in his chest. This was it. Arthur had been talking about this since before his father died and now it was finally happening.

"First, if I am to be ruler of a great kingdom, I will need the help of great people. For many years, the Knight's Code has dictated that only those of noble birth may become a knight of Camelot. During my life I have met many men of common birth who are as noble of heart as any knight of Camelot. So today I am issuing a call to arms," Arthur announced. "Any man, noble or common, who wishes to become a knight of Camelot and serve the realm may do so. A tournament will be held. Myself and my knights will be the judges. Anyone who passes our tests will be allowed to wear the red and gold of Camelot and fight to protect the kingdom."

The gathered nobles talked. They whispered amongst themselves animatedly about what this would mean for the kingdom, for the Knights of Camelot. A few wondered if Arthur wasn't quite right in the head. Merlin heard a man say that this was a good thing, since the recent attacks on Camelot and its allies had killed many of the nobility's sons.

Arthur let the talking go on for about a minute before he held up his hand again. Almost immediately the room fell into silence once more. In that moment, Merlin saw her, standing near the exit. Her long golden hair was just as he remembered, as were her dark green eyes. All that had changed was her clothing: instead of a flowing green dress, she wore simple servant's clothes.

Tethella.

"My second proclamation is to repeal a law my father passed, a law that I believe caused more strife and hatred than was ever necessary." A few mutterings were uttered, and Arthur nodded. "I cannot hope to lead the people of Camelot in peace if I am condemning many of them to death. As of today, I am lifting the ban on magic."

Most of the crowd gasped. Tristan and King Mark did not even bat an eye. If anyone tried to protest, they would have Arthur's back.

"All men will be judged upon the merits of their actions," Arthur continued over the noise, causing it to quiet down again. "If a person does evil with magic, they will face the consequences just as any man would. However if they use their gifts for the good of others, in the service of Camelot and her people, I will not put to harm those with good hearts."

It seemed like a bubble had burst, and many nobles began to talk loudly at once, all trying to get Arthur's attention. Tethella smiled and slipped out through the servant door. Merlin gave his own small gasp and rushed after her. Arthur could handle the nobles without him.

He didn't catch up to the seer until they were two hallways over, well away from the hustle and bustle of the coronation. Merlin had no doubt that she had planned it that way.

"Tethella," he called quietly as he hurried over to her.

She stood at a window, looking down through the glass at the courtyard. A dozen servants were hurrying here and there with baskets and plates and goods for the visiting nobles. The sun glinted off her hair and made her seem to glow. She looked up as he approached.

"Emrys," she greeted, giving a curtsy but not lowering her eyes. "It is good to see you."

Merlin couldn't help but frown. "What are you doing here?" he asked. He was suspicious of her - she gave off a feeling of peace and calm but her presence was confusing. Why was the most powerful seer in the world in Camelot?

She gave him an amused smile. "It was the coronation of the greatest king to ever rule. Why would I be anywhere else?" she answered simply. "I am glad to finally speak with you myself, Emrys."

"I'm glad to speak with you, too," Merlin agreed. "You made the prophesy my entire life has been based on."

Tethella laughed, light and airy but deeper and richer than Merlin had expected. She covered her mouth with her hand for a moment, then smiled at Merlin.

"Merlin," she said, catching the younger sorcerer off guard, "you need not envy my power. You are the most powerful sorcerer who will ever walk the Earth. Magic calls to you on a level deeper than any other will ever truly understand," she told him. She was no doubt referring to what happened at Tintagel, and Merlin wasn't surprised in the least that she knew about that. "And one day," she continued, "you will be the second most powerful seer in the world."

Merlin blinked and tilted his head. "Second?"

A nod. "Yes. While the Lady Morgana will get stronger with time, she will never quite match up to you."

So he would be second only to Tethella. Somehow, Merlin knew that wasn't a statement of pride. It was simply a fact that Tethella would always see the future better than he would.

"Wait," Merlin let out. "If I'm so powerful...Why didn't I know about the sword in the stone?"

Tethella set a gentle hand on Merlin's shoulder and looked into his eyes. She gazed at him with wonder in her eyes, as if amazed by Merlin's mere presence.

"Why give such a vision to one who already knows?" she asked in return. "You needed no proof to know what Arthur would become, not even a dragon's word. Only those whose faith could falter needed to see the sword."

She retracted her hand and brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. The sunlight caught her just right and even in dirty servant's garb she was absolutely stunning.

Merlin smiled. "Thank you," he said quietly. At her inquiring look he said, "So much has changed since Arthur pulled the sword from the stone. I'm not sure how the reveal of my magic would have gone without it."

Now her smile was reassuring. "I have seen many futures, Emrys. In every one of them, you find a way. Even if the path is rough and winding, you always find your way back to the side of your king, and he to yours. Forever."

Trumpets sounded and both magic users looked out the window. Nobles were exiting the main doors and making their way across the courtyard toward the gardens.

Merlin supposed that Arthur had settled the matter on magic. Too bad he hadn't been there to see it. He'd have to ask Arthur what happened tonight when he brought Arthur his dinner.

"Tethe-" Merlin cut himself off when he turned his head and found only blank space beside him. The seer was gone, as suddenly as she had appeared. Merlin shook his head with a quiet laugh. "Today is the start of a new age," he said quietly to the empty hallway around him. "A lot about Camelot is about to change." He smiled.

Arthur was going to change the world, and he would be there to see it. He couldn't wait.

...

...

tbc

...

...

**Next Time: The Green Knight**

_After Arthur's call to arms, lords and commoners come from all over to join the ranks of the Knights of Camelot. And when a seemingly undefeatable knight dressed in green challenges Arthur's knights in battle, it is the most unlikely man who accepts. Will Strength be enough to win this fight? And why does the green knight hold such a grudge against Arthur and his men?_


	7. The Green Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Arthur's call to arms, lords and commoners come from all over to join the ranks of the Knights of Camelot. And when a seemingly undefeatable knight dressed in green challenges Arthur's knights in battle, it is the most unlikely man who accepts. Will Strength be enough to win this fight? And why does the green knight hold such a grudge against Arthur and his men?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obviously, this chapter is based on the legend of 'Sir Gwaine and the Green Knight.'

Every inn in Camelot was full, with many visitors taking space on the floor or camping outside the walls or rooming with a helpful townsperson just to be close by. The market was selling out faster than the farmers and craftsmen could stock. Delivering medicines for Gaius was an adventure in and of itself. Merlin had to twist and turn and take new routes behind and between businesses to get through the crowded streets.

It wasn't until he was on the stairs to Gaius' chambers that Merlin felt he could breathe again. "Sorry that took so long. Arthur's call to arms tournament has turned Camelot into a madhouse," he said as he walked in, then paused when he saw the knight in the room.

Sir Leon chuckled. "That it has," he agreed, then nodded at Gaius. "Thank you for the medicine. I wouldn't be much of a challenge to these upstarts if I caught cold."

"Of course," Gaius replied and headed over to his work table.

The knight turned back to Merlin with a smile. "I was sent to find you, actually. Getting the medicine was just a bonus," he revealed. "Arthur wants to see you."

Merlin lifted an eyebrow. "What for?" Arthur had practically kicked Merlin out of the castle until the tournament was set up and ready. He seemed to think Merlin was somehow going to destroy part of the ring or ruin the stands or something. Merlin honestly didn't know.

Leon shrugged. "He didn't say, only that he needed to see you in his chambers immediately."

Nodding, Merlin hung the medicine bag on a hook by the door and turned to go find the king. At least there wasn't so large a crowd inside the castle as outside of it.

...

...

It turned out that Arthur had only wanted him to tell him and Morgana where they would be sitting during the tournament. Just outside the city walls several arenas had been built, with stands for spectators around them and preparation tents for the combatants. Arthur and Morgana would sit in a specially built royal pavilion section of the stands, overlooking the largest of the arenas. Gwen would be in a lower seat to Morgana's left, Merlin in a lower seat to Arthur's right.

"I lifted the ban on magic," Arthur told Merlin while he and Morgana were there. "That means there may be magicians among the hopefuls. I need you both to keep an eye out for any foul play. I don't want to lose any potential knights to someone less apt simply because they weren't prepared to fight snakes and fireballs, or someone who can increase their strength tenfold."

"Of course," both sorcerers agreed.

After that, they were dismissed, and Morgana insisted Merlin walk her back to her chambers. Merlin knew this meant Morgana had something to say, and he wasn't disappointed. Almost all the way to Morgana's chambers, she smirked and said, "You've done quite well for yourself."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The seating arrangement for the tournament," Morgana said as if the answer were obvious, keeping her eyes forward while they walked but radiating satisfaction.

"I'm the king's manservant, of course I'll be seated near him. In case he needs me," Merlin said, not understanding what the big deal was. "I'm happy for Gwen though. Arthur had her seated next to you in the royal pavilion." It was a step closer to Arthur publically courting her, if that was his intention. It would be good if that were true. For both of them. For the kingdom.

Morgana turned to look at Merlin and lifted one immaculate eyebrow. "Gwen?" she asked. "Gwen may be seated to Arthur's left, next to the place of the King's consort, but Merlin...You are sitting directly to Arthur's right. Surely you've been a royal servant long enough to know what that means?"

What that means? Sitting to the king's right? Merlin thought back to all of Arthur's complaining about royal affairs, to reading countless texts on royal procedures and the like in preparation for him writing one of Arthur's speeches when Arthur was being particularly childish about being the prince...

Arthur used to sit to Uther's right. It was a position of trust, the most important seat after the king and queen. To sit at the king's right hand meant you had a special relationship to the king, you could speak and act with the king's authority, and people were to treat you with the same respect and obedience as they would the king.

Merlin stumbled on even stones and had to grab the nearest sconce to avoid face planting. Morgana actually _giggled_ , which turned into full on laughter when Merlin glanced up at her and she saw his beat red face.

"Oh come on, Merlin," she admonished teasingly. "You've been at Arthur's side for over half a decade now. Surely this isn't that surprising?"

But it was. For so long, Merlin had expected that he would remain in Arthur's shadow forever. He wasn't even upset about it most of the time because it was just the way things were. Even with Arthur accepting his magic and repealing the ban, Merlin had assumed he would continue to be Arthur's silent support while Gwen or some other lady stood at his side. This was different than anything he'd anticipated. His chair was lower than Arthur's, but it was only by one step. To be seated, publicly, at Arthur's right hand during a tournament? That would mean-

"Arthur wouldn't mean it that way, right?" Merlin asked as he released the sconce. "There are going to be hundreds of people from all over the kingdom there. If he thought they would think about it that way, wouldn't he move me?"

Now Morgana's expression morphed into pity. "You deserve much more credit than you're given, Merlin. Arthur knows it too."

"But, but," Merlin stuttered. "It'll raise questions. It could reflect badly on him as a king to sit a servant in that spot. I need to go-"

He only got one step down the hall back towards Arthur before Morgana wrapped her surprisingly strong hands about his right arm and forced him to stay. Her gaze, when he met her eyes, was as fierce as her grip.

"So what if people know how important you are to him? Maybe that's why he sat you there," she said. "One day, Arthur will make an announcement on your behalf. One day, you will sit at the high table with Arthur during feasts instead of serving at them. But tomorrow is the day when Arthur begins the long road to your destiny together. Tomorrow, you sit at his right hand, where everyone can see you. Tomorrow, Arthur will be surrounded by those he holds most dear and he is not ashamed to let everyone know it. Accept it as the gift it is."

And, as if she had spoken a spell, Merlin felt the fight drain from him. In fact, a small smile lifted his lips. If that was Arthur's purpose behind the action, then who was Merlin to tell him no?

...

...

The main arena was packed, people standing around once the stands were full just to watch the hopefuls compete. The rules were simple and had been explained to each fighter when they signed up.

For three days, they would be paired up with other fighters from across the kingdom. For every win, they got a point in their favor. Every loss was a point in their opponent's favor. If they became knights of Camelot, then they would be trained in many weapons, but only swords were allowed at the tournament. No killing was allowed.

On the fourth and fifth day, the twenty-five men with the most wins would get the honor of facing a knight of Camelot in open combat. If they survived for four minutes against the knight then they would have earned their place among the knights.

Arthur would later have them all face him in combat as well for the previous requirement of surviving one minute of open combat with him, but to test their skill and their willingness to attack any opponent rather than to earn their spot.

Once Arthur and Morgana had walked up to their raised chairs and all four of them in the royal pavilion had taken their seats, everyone looked to Arthur. He nodded to a slightly fellow dressed in bright colors. The man lifted a long trumpet and let loose several notes of loud sound, signaling the start of the tournament in all arenas at once.

In the three other arenas, the knights would preside over the fights, looking for evidence of cheating or the beginnings of a knight. The honor of competing in front of the king had been decided simply and fairly by a drawing of lots, to avoid favoritism.

The first fight in the main arena was between a man with just graying hair who looked like he might fight bears in his spare time and a young man who more resembled a twig than a fighter. Both wore one of several sets of chainmail Arthur had had made specifically for the peasant entrants who would not have their own from home. However, the older man held his sword like Merlin had upon arriving in Camelot while the younger man at least had his hand positioning and resting stance right.

When the battle started, the older man rushed to strike first. The younger man's eyes widened and he scrambled out of the way with little finesse. Several spectators laughed. Arthur's hands gripped the edges of his chair tightly, a small but telling detail Merlin knew meant he was unimpressed and upset about it.

The fight went better from there, though. The younger man was faster and managed to land a strike of his dulled blade on his older opponent's right shoulder from behind, earning him cheers from the crowd. The older man turned around with a deep set frown and sliced horizontally, but the younger man caught the attack with his own blade. With no small amount of effort, the younger man managed to tilt his opponent's blade away. The shifted angle caused the older man to lose his grip on the sword and it went tumbling into the dirt, paired with the crowd's gasps. The younger man held his sword to the older man's neck but didn't attack.

One point to the younger man. They shook hands with amiable smiles while the stands erupted with cheering and clapping, the older man grabbed his sword from the earth, and they exited the ring to go mark their scores with Geoffrey. It was a short battle, not even a minute long.

"Are you bored yet?" Merlin asked out of the corner of his mouth, doing his best not to smile.

Arthur glanced at him while the next two fighters were found and led to the arena. "Of course not, _Mer_ lin. This is my tournament. I arranged it and I'm happy to sit and observe."

"And judge," Morgana quipped, smirking when Arthur shot her a glare. Gwen allowed herself one giggle but it was enough for Arthur to look scandalized.

He huffed and faced the arena again. A pleasant smile slid onto his face even as he said, "Just remember, you have jobs to do today as well. You don't get to just sit around and enjoy the show."

The next fight was, honestly, embarrassing. Both combatants looked frightened of their own blades. One of them managed to disarm his opponent but lost his own sword in the process, resulting in a scuffling match as they both attempted to retrieve their fallen weapon first. It took eight minutes for one of them to win and both men were huffing, exhausted, and covered in dirt. Arthur nodded to them as they left and tried not to look as baffled as he felt. Neither of those men would make it to the fourth day. The crowd, while laughing often during the battle, seemed to agree with him as their clapping at the end was sparse.

One of Camelot's own kitchen boys stepped into the arena next, facing a man three times his size. Arthur recognized him because Kay often pointed him out, teasing him with the nickname 'Good Hands'. It wasn't the nicest interaction, but was definitely better than how Kay used to call Arthur 'Wart' as a child just because he was shorter. In fact, Kay was one of the knights around the main arena, watching the fights and prepared to defend Arthur should an attack happen.

Surprisingly, the kitchen boy could fight. He let the larger man come at him and then knocked the man's sword away, then forced the oaf to his knees in surrender, all without moving an inch. Arthur and Morgana exchanged wide eyed surprise, and then the king turned to Merlin.

"Merlin, that kitchen boy, what's his name?" he asked after the fighters were leaving the arena.

Merlin glanced up at him with equal awe on his face. "Gareth," he said. "He's been working in the kitchens for...I think two years now. I had no idea he could fight like that."

Arthur let out a huff, but it was a pleased noise. "If he keeps it up, 'Gareth the kitchen boy' may become Sir Gareth, Knight of Camelot."

Two brothers faced each other then, both of them lesser sons of a local lord. They sniped at each other about seeing who was better at last, about who their father doted on more, about their skills or lack thereof in regards to swordsmanship and courtship. There was more verbal sparring than use of the sword. Arthur almost declared them both losers of the fight after five minutes passed with them doing nothing more than shouting at each other, but then the elder brother struck out and started the real fight. The crowd, which had grown as bored as their king, cheered and clapped as if their enthusiasm alone would keep the brothers from devolving into petty bickering again.

The younger brother won.

Three more fights and the crowd was beginning to calm down. More people were wandering away to find food, or sending a friend to do so while they saved the much coveted seats. There would be a break soon, giving the fighters and the townspeople a chance to recoup and prepare for the next set of battles. The last fight was between a man with shoulder length blond hair and a man with even longer black hair.

"Maybe their hair should fight instead of them," Morgana teased quietly. "They have more hair than I do."

The blond stepped forward and swung his sword. It was parried by his opponent, who forced him to step back again. The blond glared, shifted his grip on his sword, and-

Arthur stood from his seat as the blond fighter fell to the ground, a green sword embedded in his back. The crowd gasped and a few people screamed. Kay sent a herald away, no doubt to warn the other arenas of what had happened. The black haired fighter dropped his weapon and ran as blood darkened the sand of the arena floor.

To match the green sword, a man dressed in a green tunic and pants, no armor or chainmail, marched into the arena. As he reached the center of the ring and ripped his sword from the dead man's body, it became clear that not only was his clothing green, so was his very skin.

"Who are you?" Arthur demanded as Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen also stood up and armored steps sounded in the distance. "What business do you have here?"

The green man pointed his sword at Arthur, and Merlin stepped between them. If he intended to attack the king, he would have to go through Merlin. Arthur didn't push him out of the way since he could still see the enemy, but he did put his hand on Merlin's shoulder in case he needed to. He wasn't about to let Merlin die in his place, after all.

"I am the Green Knight and I have come to issue a challenge to all the brave men of Camelot," the green man declared, casting his gaze around to everyone gathered as more and more men in chainmail appeared. "I will accept a fight with any man who thinks he can defeat me. If he can, I will give up my life. If none can defeat me, then I will kill King Arthur without hesitation."

The crowd gasped.

Arthur shook his head. "If I am your target, then face me and me alone."

The Green Knight gave a crooked smirk and it looked wrong on his face. "You misunderstand," he said. "This is a message. Now," he said loudly, turning away from the pavilion, "who will be my first opponent?!"

For several moments, no one moved. Arthur's hand retreated from Merlin's shoulder to grasp the hilt of Excalibur, but Morgana's hand covered his. She motioned to the crowd, where a young man was entering the ring. He had short, copper hair and a gentle face.

"If you threaten the king," he said in a light voice, drawing his sword with steady hands, "then I have no choice but to stop you."

Before Arthur could even open his mouth - the young man was brave but was so scrawny and untrained that there was no chance he could defeat the knight - three more men had left the anonymity of the crowd to face the Green Knight at the young man's side, including Gareth. Arthur relaxed minutely. Four against one, even with untrained men, were slightly better odds. Still, he would prefer to fight this battle himself, or have his knights included.

The Green Knight attacked first. He ran toward the young man who first stepped forward and slashed down from above. The young man managed to parry the attack but his entire body shook from the effort. The largest of the others took the opportunity to attack the Green Knight from behind. The Green Knight shoved the young man to the ground and flipped around to attack his second opponent before the strike could land. The Knight's attack caught the large man in the side since both of his arms had been up in preparation for an attack. He coughed and fell sideways, clutching his side. The chainmail protected him from a direct cut, but there was no doubt in Arthur's mind that something had broken, possibly a rib or two.

The two remaining men rushed the Knight at once from opposite sides. Impossibly, both attacks missed. The Green Knight stepped closer to one of the men and thrust his sword forward, catching his opponent in the shoulder and sending him crashing to the ground with blood beginning to color his borrowed mail. Immediately, the Green Knight ducked the second attack, then spun and slashed upward with his sword once he was facing his remaining opponent, Gareth. The attack barely missed catching Gareth in the face as he stumbled backward to avoid it. Gareth regained his footing after barely a heartbeat and thrust his sword forward, but the Green Knight knocked it wide and shouldered the young man back. The Green Knight slashed at Gareth, but he parried and held the attack.

The young man who had first stepped forward was back on his feet. He lifted his sword to bring it down on the Knight's head, but the sun caught the blade as it moved, reflecting off Gareth's mail. The Green Knight stepped backward, loosening the cut of sword upon sword and making Gareth stumble half a step. The Knight caught him in the face with the hilt of his sword and in the groin with his boot, before he quickly turned to catch the youngest opponent's blade while Gareth collapsed to the ground. Someone in the crowd - it sounded like Kay - shouted Gareth's name while the rest of the audience had been shocked into silence.

The young man pressed his full weight into his attack and managed to make the Green Knight step back once, but he wasn't heavy or strong enough to keep it up. With a shove from the Green Knight in return, the young man was forced back two steps, three, four. Just as he began to stumble over his own feet, a third sword joined the mix, breaking the parry.

"Lancelot," Gwen gasped.

Merlin and Arthur relaxed immensely. Lancelot had once been a knight of Camelot. He was a good, strong fighter. If anyone could take on The Green Knight, it was him. Maybe they wouldn't have to get involved after all.

"Leave the boy alone and face me," Lancelot challenged.

"Hey," the boy protested. "I can fight too!"

"Sure ya can," a third voice joined in, causing Merlin to grin and Arthur to resist a groan. Not wearing any chainmail at all, hair fight ruffled but still somehow perfect, Gwaine had stepped into the arena. "No doubtin' that. But protecting the princess is gonna take some muscle."

Lancelot smiled at the boy. "Let us handle it this time. I promise, once you've had more training you can fight whatever battles you want. You've done enough for now." He nodded to the fallen men on the field. "Help your partners. That is also part of being a knight."

The Green Knight gave a twisted grin once more. "And are you a knight? One skilled enough to defeat me?"

"He might not be, but I am," Gwaine declared with surety.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "If he lives, I'll put him in the stocks," he said quietly.

"For what? Being right?" Morgana teased in return.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" Gwen whispered.

Merlin looked at Arthur, then to Gwen, and nodded. It didn't seem to help calm her nerves.

The Green Knight looked between Lancelot and Gwaine, then raised his eyes to Arthur. "I respectfully request reprieve," he said loudly. "One night to rest, and in the morning I will accept the challenge presented by these men, the last chance anyone in Camelot will have to stop me before I come for you."

"Why should I grant such a request?" Arthur asked coldly. "You have disrupted my tournament and killed my people."

"One man," the knight corrected. "Who, you will find, was using magic to hide his identity as a wanted criminal, while I came to challenge you face to face. Give me a reprieve for the night."

Arthur cast his gaze around the arena. The young man had stopped midway through pulling the chainmail off the largest of his partners, looking between Arthur and the Green Knight in concern. All three of the men who had helped him were alive but injured, letting out soft groans or whines at their many injuries. Lancelot nodded to Arthur, letting the king know he would accept any decision. Gwaine gave a loose shrug. He didn't care when the fight happened as long as he got to participate.

Now Arthur looked to Merlin. The man's green skin obviously pointed to magic of some sort. Perhaps it was magic that made him unbeatable. If he gave Merlin time, the servant could find a way to dispel the magic and give Lancelot and Gwaine an even chance against the Green Knight. That would ease everyone's nerves, not least of all Gwen's.

Nodding, he faced the knight. "One night," he agreed.

The Green Knight sheathed his sword and Kay and Gaius immediately rushed into the arena. Knights surrounded the pavilion and began leading Morgana and Gwen away. Arthur pulled Merlin close before letting himself be led as well.

"Find a way to defeat him," he said. "Quickly."

Merlin nodded and headed into the arena to help Gaius. Kay was checking over Gareth while Gaius dealt with the most serious wound, so Merlin knelt by the largest of the men alongside the young man. A quick press of fingers to the large man's side caused him to shout in pain and Merlin grimaced. Definitely a broken rib or two.

He looked to the young man, whose features were even softer up close. "What's your name?"

"Luned," the young man answered after a short pause.

"Alright, Luned," Merlin said, "I need your help to carry him to the physician's chambers. We're going to make a chair with our arms. Can you do that?"

Luned nodded with a determined expression. "Just tell me what to do." He may be young, but Merlin thought the boy had the determination required to be a knight.

...

...

The Green Knight, in a move scarily similar to the wraith knight from years ago, stayed in the arena overnight. If there had been a doubt to his enchantment, it was immediately gone upon seeing the man sitting in the center of the ring without moving a muscle. There were knights stationed periodically around the arena to keep an eye on him and Merlin had to sneak in to do what Arthur asked of him.

Crouching next to the stands, hidden from view, Merlin focused on the Green Knight. He needed to dispel the magic that was on this man. He moved too fast to not be using some form of magic.

"Áblinnan galdor," he murmured, eyes flashing gold in the dark.

There was barely a breeze in the arena. Nothing changed about the Green Knight. Merlin held out his hand and repeated the spell with different inflection, but still nothing happened.

"Ende galdorcræft," he tried instead.

The Green Knight's clothing ruffled slightly and he turned his head toward Merlin. Merlin gasped and slid further into the shadows, hiding from sight.

"It is not so simple as that," the Knight said, his voice just loud enough for Merlin to hear it. A few of the knights standing guard shifted to pay their charge more attention, but the Knight had already shifted back to his previous position and did not move under their gaze.

Not so simple. If Merlin couldn't stop the Green Knight on his own, then he would need help from someone stronger, older.

...

...

"If I am not mistaken, there is a powerful spell at work in Camelot this night."

Merlin looked up at the dragon with a frown. "So you know what it is that makes the Green Knight so strong?"

Kilgharrah hummed. "Indeed I do," he said. "Though I have not felt this magic in a long time. That it has come to Camelot is both unusual and yet something I should have expected."

"I don't have time for riddles," Merlin said. "The Green Knight is fighting against Lancelot and Gwaine tomorrow. If they can't defeat him, he's going after Arthur. He already killed one man and injured four others. I need to know how to end whatever spell he's using."

Kilgharrah laughed but it was not a noise of amusement. "He? He is not using a spell," he revealed. "That man has had an enchantment laid upon him by another. I doubt he knew what it was until it was too late."

Merlin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Your enemy is human, Merlin, and easily defeated. He wears a sash around his waist, does he not?"

Merlin hadn't been paying much attention to the man's clothing but...thinking back to earlier... "Yes. It's tied around his tunic. Why? Is that the source of the spell?"

Now the dragon looked pleased. "That sash was woven together with magic long ago. It protects its wearer from all harm, giving them whatever skills necessary to avoid a battle wound and healing any they receive otherwise." He huffed and smoke flew from his nostrils. "It was lost long before a Pendragon walked this land. Whomever found it and gave it to your knight must be a powerful sorcerer indeed. You would do best to remember that."

...

...

When Merlin climbed the steps into the royal pavilion the next morning, Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. He frowned when Merlin shook his head.

"I know how to make him vulnerable," Merlin whispered, "the problem is I can't get close enough to do it."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "So go tell Lancelot how to do it," he whispered back. "He knows, doesn't he?"

Merlin blinked for a moment, feeling stupid. Of course! He snapped his fingers and pointed at Arthur, with an 'ahhh'. Arthur pushed him away by the face and resisted the urge to smile as his servant stumbled down the stairs in search of the would-be knight. Morgana lifted an eyebrow at him when he turned to her and the urge to smile flipped into a frown that just made her laugh at him.

...

...

Lancelot and Gwaine were in a tent together, preparing for their fight. Lancelot wore the chainmail and armor Gwen had once made for him, while Gwaine wore nothing but his usual rugged clothing. Merlin ran through the closed flap and skid to a stop once inside.

"Merlin!" Gwaine greeted with a bright smile. "Was wonderin' if I'd get to see you, what with you sittin' in the royal seats. Life is good then?"

Merlin threw a smile back at him. "Yeah. Life is...Life is really really good. Um, I'll, can I talk to Lancelot for a minute? Um. In private?"

That had the smile dropping from Gwaine's face faster than a guillotine. "Oh. I see. A year apart and things change."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's been more than a year, you infant," he corrected, causing Gwaine to grin again. "And I'll talk to you after the match, Gwaine. We can go drinking or whatever. But right now I need to talk to Lancelot."

Shaking his head with humor, Gwaine gave a horrible bow and waltzed out of the tent. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do, Merlin!"

"That's nothing!" Merlin couldn't resist calling after him. Gwaine's laughter echoed back.

Once they were alone, Lancelot took a step closer with a pensive expression. "What's the matter, Merlin? Is it about the fight?"

Merlin nodded. "I found out what makes him so untouchable," he revealed. "He's wearing a sash around his waist."

Now Lancelot nodded once. "Yes. I saw it yesterday. It's very thin."

"It's got a spell on it that protects him. If you get the sash off him, he'll be just like any other man," Merlin said. "I can't do it because I can't get close to him."

"But I can," Lancelot finished. He clapped Merlin on the shoulder and smiled. "Don't worry, Merlin. I'll do whatever I can. I'll protect Arthur with my life."

That didn't really make Merlin feel any better. He trusted Lancelot to do whatever was needed to protect Arthur from the Green Knight, but he didn't want Lancelot to die doing it. It seemed that Merlin would need to be prepared to intervene if things took a turn for the worst. No matter if it revealed his magic to the people too soon or not, if Arthur or Lancelot or Gwaine might die, Merlin wouldn't hesitate to save them.

...

...

Gwaine and Lancelot stood on either side of the Green Knight. There was no trumpet or drum or flag to signal the beginning of the fight this time. Both would-be knights stood with their swords drawn, waiting. The crowd was silent around them, the arena was surrounded by knights and guards, and Arthur sat at attention in the king's chair.

Gwaine struck first. He aimed for the Green Knight's shoulder, but missed when the Knight took several steps backward to avoid it. Then Lancelot attacked; his strike aimed at the Green Knight's waist, where the sash was tied. The blow landed, but it only cut the Knight's tunic and not his flesh. Then the Green Knight slashed at Lancelot in return. Lancelot parried and threw the attack wide, ramming his shoulder into the Green Knight while his hand reached for the sash. A cut to his left arm made Lancelot gasp and retreat just before his fingers could touch the fabric.

The Green Knight's blade came down at Lancelot's head but Gwaine stepped in the way, his sword catching the blow before it could find its mark.

"Not very sporting ta go fer the head, friend," Gwaine commented, his voice barely betrayed the strength he was using to hold the Knight's attack.

"Are we playing games, then?" The Green Knight replied.

Metal grinded as their swords slid along one another to the tips before both men stepped away. Lancelot gave Gwaine a grateful nod when they locked eyes, then stood at his side ready to fight again.

This time Gwaine let Lancelot take the first strike. Lancelot feinted a slash from above and then thrust forward toward the Green Knight's waist again. The Knight's sword slammed into his, throwing Lancelot off balance. The Green Knight pushed Lancelot back and then did his own thrust, cutting along the chainmail along the left side of Lancelot's waist. His green sword cut through the links and the protective fabric underneath, and slowly the shining metal was stained with red. Someone shouted in alarm in the crowd.

Gwaine slashed at the Knight's upper right arm before Lancelot was even finished being wounded, but it was as if his blade had moved through empty air. He didn't land a hit even when he was certain he should have. His second attack was parried, and his third, with a very solid if discolored sword, but then the Green Knight backed up to a safe distance and simply watched them.

A snort came out of Gwaine before he could stop it. "For all that show and tell yesterday," he noted, "you seem reluctant today."

"Do not mistake strategy for reluctance," The Green Knight admonished. "Simply running around blindly with a sword is no way to accomplish one's goals."

That drew a small smirk to Gwaine's face. "Ya sure about that?"

"Perhaps now isn't the best time for small talk," Lancelot pitched in, coming to stand at Gwaine's side even though he was beginning to limp.

Gwaine eyed the wound. "You alright?"

Lancelot nodded with a grimace. "It's a shallow wound. I'll be fine."

For a moment, Gwaine stared at Lancelot's face, considering. Then, as if accepting the answer, he shrugged and stepped forward, slicing sideways at their enemy. His attack was parried once more and then the Green Knight moved around him and rushed at Lancelot. Lancelot raised his sword and their blades met in the air with sparks, their faces only inches apart and separated by their steel. With a grunt, Lancelot shoved the Green Knight away, though it obviously caused him pain. He stumbled and the Green Knight took advantage. The Knight's blade struck Lancelot's close to the hilt, knocking it from Lancelot's hand. Some in the crowd gasped as it fell to the ground, leaving Lancelot defenseless.

Gwaine hurried to defend him once more. This time the Green Knight cut at Lancelot's neck. Gwaine's blade caught the Knight's just as metal met skin. Lancelot ducked to the ground, his hand on his neck, and rolled to grab his sword again. The Green Knight pulled his sword back and stepped away, keeping his eyes on Gwaine even as Lancelot regained his sword.

"You're avoiding me," Gwaine growled, so quiet that Arthur in the royal pavilion almost didn't catch it. "Stop runnin' away. If yer gonna try an' take someone's head off, make it mine."

Now the Green Knight laughed. "If that is what you wish."

The Green Knight stepped within reach and slashed at Gwaine's right shoulder where it met his neck. Gwaine ducked to the left and the blade caught nothing but air. Gwaine replied with a horizontal cut that was parried and returned with a diagonal slice. Gwaine's leather vest received the brunt of the attack while Gwaine dodged a real injury. With a glare, Gwaine gave an upward cut that was knocked to the side. The Green Knight turned his blade and immediately tried a horizontal slash but Gwaine dropped down, only losing a few strands of hair, and thrust forward with his sword before the Green Knight could try anything else.

The Green Knight froze and for a moment it looked like Gwaine had finally managed to run him through. Then Gwaine spun his sword down and away from the knight, taking the green sash with it but no blood. As soon as the fabric was away from him, the green bled from the knight's skin like wine from a goblet. His hair was left a pale blond, his skin fair but aged. His clothing changed color as well, fading in shades until it was pale blue fabric or brown leather.

The knight's now normal blade slipped from his fingers and stuck in the sand beside him, wobbling and then slowly falling over. Gwaine tossed the sash away and then looked at the face of his opponent.

"Did I win the game, then?"

"So it would seem," the previously green knight muttered, sounding equal parts shocked, pleased, and exhausted. "You are a noble man. Camelot is lucky this day."

The knight slid to his knees in defeat and the crowd erupted in cheers so loud that Merlin thought he might go deaf. Camelot's knights rushed forward to clap the formerly green knight in irons while Gwen hurried from the pavilion to meet Lancelot on the field. Sir Leon let her through and then she and Percival helped to walk the limping Lancelot over to Gaius. He received many congratulatory pats from the spectators but was mostly let through to get medical treatment.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who looked conflicted even as he gave orders to the guards beside him, his voice lost to the crowd. The king met Merlin's gaze briefly, but it was Morgana who touched Merlin's arm and led him out of the pavilion. They hurried, but did not run, to the arena floor, people parting before them like a stream around rocks. Morgana was already ordering the knights and guards not to touch anything by the time Arthur joined her to oversee the arrest and the retrieval of the sash. Merlin ran over to Gwaine while the knights were still keeping the crowd in check.

"How?" he gasped. "How did you know about the sash?"

Gwaine smirked at him. "Lancelot was after it and I figured, why not, I've seen crazier things."

What could be crazier to Gwaine than a magic battle sash, Merlin didn't know nor care. He laughed and Gwaine took the opportunity to pull Merlin into a one armed hug.

"I'm glad you came," Merlin admitted as they pulled away from one another.

Gwaine shrugged and flipped his hair out of his face with a shake of his head. "I wouldn't've missed this fer the world, Merlin."

...

...

Morgana oversaw the transfer of the sash into the royal vaults, sealed in an unmarked box with a heavy lock; Merlin stayed with Arthur outside the city walls as he picked up the tournament where it had left off; and while Gaius was examining the Green Knight, Gwen went with Lancelot to the physician's chambers.

She cleaned his three wounds and bandaged them with care. And she was proud of herself for not blushing at having Lancelot's bare chest directly in front of her for so long, touching his fair skin with her dark hands. If she thought about it too much, she would blush, so she focused on the medical aspects of what she was doing instead.

Lancelot winced when Gwen pressed a little too hard while securing the final strip of bandages. She frowned. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No, no, it's alright," he assured her.

Gwen sat down in the chair across from where Lancelot was seated and let her hands fall into her lap. "I hated that," she admitted. "I hated sitting there and watching you get hurt."

"Gwen," Lancelot said quietly, his expression softening. "I'll be fine. You saw the wounds yourself. They aren't nearly as bad as they first looked."

"I sometimes wish you were not so honorable," Gwen admitted.

Now Lancelot lifted a surprised eyebrow. "And what else was I to do? The man needed to be stopped and I knew how to do it. If I had stayed away, Arthur would be in grave danger and more men would likely be dead."

Gwen nodded, clenching her hands. "I know. You saved lives by stepping forward and fighting, though I'm beginning to doubt Arthur was in danger. Merlin would have done something, I'm sure. But you're right. And if you had done any differently then you wouldn't be the wonderful man I know so well," she said with a slight smile. "I only wish you weren't in danger so often."

For a long moment the two of them simply stared into each other's eyes. Lancelot was conflicted. Gwen lived in Camelot, with Arthur. Yet even though Arthur was now king, he and Gwen were not married or even courting, as far as Lancelot could tell. Still, she sat in the royal pavilion and that meant something. It was a very public place to sit, one with heavy meaning. If Gwen was sitting there with Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin, then that meant she was trusted, beloved, impor-

"Wait," Lancelot said into the quiet of the room, his relationship worries fading for a moment. "Merlin would have done something? Gwen what do you mean?"

All the color drained from Gwen's face and she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh, no. I didn't-That is, I meant...I didn't mean anything," she insisted through her fingers. "It's just that Merlin is always at Arthur's side and I know that he would do anything to protect Arthur, the same as any of the knights."

Lancelot blinked at her owlishly for a few moments. Then a smile crawled onto his face. He reached over and took her gentle hands in his own, pulling them from her face.

"Gwen," he said softly. "You don't have to worry. I already know about Merlin. I have ever since the first time we met, when he defeated the griffin." Her eyes widened but before she could speak he continued. "I don't know how you found out but I'm glad Merlin has another friend in Camelot."

Gwen shook her head, a bemused but pleased smile on her own lips. "He has many friends in Camelot, including Arthur." Now it was Lancelot's turn to look surprised. "I'm glad I don't have to keep it from you. I hate hiding things from you."

"I will never keep a secret from you," Lancelot promised. "Never again."

When he leaned forward to hug her, it pulled at his wounds and he winced, so Gwen did the leaning for him and wrapped her arms around his neck. She squeezed him as tightly as she dared without injuring him and replied, "Nor I from you."

...

...

The tournament ended as scheduled five days later. The Knights of Camelot had gained twenty new men; including a man named Griflet from the Western Isles who had become fast friends with Bedivere after their bout, a witty lord named Dinadan, and a farmer named Lucan - barely older than Merlin - that had the largest muscles Arthur had ever seen. And of course, Lancelot and Gwaine as well.

Now Arthur had to deal with the man who had disrupted that tournament.

The previously green man, now completely ordinary in appearance, was kneeling in chains before the throne. Arthur sat upon that throne, his crown in place on his head and a red cape flowing from his shoulders. Other than the guards standing around the chained man, Merlin and Gaius were the only people in the room.

"What is your name?" Arthur asked.

"Bercilak de Hautdesert, my lord," the man answered, his voice steady but grave, his eyes on the stone floor.

Arthur glanced at Gaius briefly before returning his eyes to the captive. "Hautdesert?" he repeated in question. "You are a lord of Caerleon?"

A nod was his only answer. This changed things a bit. If this man had been but a peasant, then Arthur could cast judgment however he wished. But being a lord from another kingdom meant Arthur had to tread carefully or risk upsetting the king and queen of Caerleon, with whom he had a new and tentative treaty.

"Why did you attack at my tournament?" Arthur asked.

Lord Bercilak did not lift his gaze from the stone. "My wife fell ill, sire," he said. "I have some minor skill in the magical arts, but even I could not combat the sickness." Arthur saw Merlin tense in his place at Gaius' side, cautious at the reveal that the sash had not been the knight's only source of magic, but for some reason the king found he himself was not afraid of Lord Bercilak. "A blond woman appeared one day with a bargain. If I accepted the green sash she held and did her bidding, then she would heal my wife."

Now Arthur tensed along with his servant. A blond woman? "What woman?" he asked, his voice hard.

Lord Bercilak shook his head and looked up at Arthur at last. "I recognized her, but I do not remember from where, your highness. She was beautiful and I felt no ill intentions from her. "

No one who had ever met Morgause could claim she seemed completely without ill will. Another blond sorcerer then? In Arthur's mind, he saw a beautiful woman standing upon a raised stone, smiling at him. Was it possible? Would the seer Tethella have enchanted this man and sent him to Camelot? But why?

"What were her intentions?" the king asked.

Lord Bercilak did not hesitate or waver while he answered. "The sorceress told me that I was known as a great judge of men's worths and that my skills were needed. She healed my wife and I accepted the sash, tying it around my waist. It drew upon my meager magical strength and made me unbeatable, she said. I was to come to Camelot during your tournament and test your court, to see who among those who wished to be knights truly deserved it. I fear I have failed in my task by being beaten so quickly."

"Gaius?" Arthur asked, turning his attention to the physician.

Gaius took a step forward and Bercilak also looked at him. "I have inspected him as thoroughly as I can, sire. By my knowledge he is a normal, healthy man and nothing more. The sash that was pulled from his waist does seem to be the source of his great strength and speed." He shook his head. "I do not believe that Morgause is behind this. Your life was never truly in danger and only a small few in Camelot suffered for it. And he was telling the truth about the man he killed, so that is also in his favor."

All of that was true as well. Arthur took a deep breath.

"Return Lord Bercilak to his cell and ensure he is given water to bathe in as well as food. Also, please send for the four men who faced Lord Bercilak in combat. Gaius, if any of them are injured and need assistance in getting here, help them in any way you can. I need to speak with all of them," he ordered, keeping his voice as calm as possible.

He gave Merlin a look that kept the servant from leaving with the others. Only when the great doors were shut and they were the only two left in the throne room did Arthur let his regal pose drop. He let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in the throne like he would in the cushioned chair in his chambers.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked, erasing the space between them and joining Arthur on the raised steps.

"What do you think, Merlin?" he asked, waving his hand toward the open space where Lord Bercilak used to kneel.

Merlin stared at the open space as if he could still see the chained lord, his eyes intent and calculating. Arthur watched Merlin's face the entire time his servant was thinking. He knew Merlin was not the bumbling idiot he had believed his friend to be for so long, yet he always enjoyed seeing the pondering look on Merlin's face when he was considering a situation, when he was choosing his words carefully. Better yet was the expression Merlin wore whenever he gave a particularly inspiring speech or comment, but Arthur preferred having only a few glances of that expression for fear of getting used to it and not being as moved by Merlin's uncanny wisdom.

"I think," Merlin said at length, "that Morgause isn't behind this."

Arthur nodded. "Do you think perhaps the seer Tethella is?" he asked.

When Merlin's eyes caught Arthur's, Arthur saw that Merlin was surprised Arthur had thought of the seer at all. After a moment, he nodded.

"Tethella is a seer. She would know if someone were concealing their identity to sneak into the city. She also believes in the future kingdom you will create, so...if she wanted to make your job a little easier, maybe, then she might send someone to point out good knights to you."

Arthur lifted an eyebrow. "You don't sound too sure of that, Merlin."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm still learning everything I can do with magic. Tethella is older than she looks and immensely more powerful than I am right now. I don't know half of what she does so I can't really guess as to why she would do anything, except that whatever she does she does for good."

"And if it isn't Tethella?" Arthur asked, eyes still fixed on Merlin's.

Now Merlin frowned, but it was more of a confused look than a sad or frustrated one. "I can't think of any other magic users who have shown an interest in Camelot so far. Not to say that there aren't others, because there are magic users everywhere, but to find one strong enough to heal Lord Bercilak's wife and to find a long lost magical artifact to use in their plans? That narrows the list down to about four people I've ever met. One of them is dead, one is Morgana, one is Morgause, and one is Tethella. Morgana isn't stepping up and we've already decided it wasn't Morgause."

Hearing Merlin explain his thinking process aloud to Arthur was an odd experience. Arthur wasn't sure he liked it, or whether he preferred to just get Merlin's final decision and to accept that of course the young sorcerer had thought it through. He liked to think he was getting pretty good at just taking Merlin's word for things.

Arthur nodded. "Alright. So Tethella enchanted Lord Bercilak to help me figure out which of my contestants were most worthy to wear the Pendragon red," he said. "I'll let them know as soon as they arrive then."

Merlin stared at him blankly. Arthur couldn't help but begin to grin, which made Merlin gape at him.

"You-You planned that from the beginning," the servant accused with a frown. "You already decided that Lord Bercilak was innocent of a crime and you just let me ramble on like a fool!"

Arthur laughed. "Oh you're always a fool, Merlin," he teased. "And yes, I had already decided, but I did want your opinion as well. Shocking though it may be, I trust you and would have reconsidered if you had a convincing argument."

Merlin was red in the cheeks and Arthur wasn't sure if it was from indignation or from the sidelong compliment he had just paid to him. Either one would be an acceptable response. He beamed at Merlin and the sorcerer reached over and knocked Arthur's crown into his lap in retaliation. Arthur laughed.

"Careful," he said with a smile. "I could have you thrown in jail for that."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "I could make all your clothes invisible in the middle of a court meeting, but we both know neither of us will follow through."

The king laughed again.

...

...

Merlin hadn't been out of Arthur's presence for five minutes, had just walked out into the sunny open courtyard, when an arm latched around his shoulders and he was pulled into a rough hug.

"Merlin!" Gwaine sang. "Finally out of tha' lion's den, eh?"

Merlin shoved at Gwaine to make him let go, but it was futile without some magical assistance. "What do you want, leech?" he teased.

Gwaine pressed his free hand to his chest with a gasp of mock hurt. "Ya wound me! A leech? Such a terrible thing ta call a knight, wouldn't ya agree, _Sir_ Lancelot?"

For the first time, Merlin noticed the third man in the courtyard with them. Lancelot appeared vaguely tired but otherwise showed no signs of being wounded only days ago. His clothing hid all the bandages he still wore. The tanned knight shook his head but he was smiling.

"Gwaine wants to celebrate our victory," Lancelot explained instead of answering Gwaine's question.

Merlin grinned. "You're off to the tavern then, I suppose?"

"Who's 'you'?" Gwaine asked, beginning to walk Merlin across the stone yard and out into the city. " _We_ are going. I wouldn' taste my first heav'nly pint in Camelot in almost two years without ya by my side, Merlin. It just wouldn' be right."

"Of course not," Merlin agreed, managing to stand up almost straight without dislodging Gwaine's arm, so that he looked like he was walking _with_ Gwaine instead of being forced to stay with him. "So we're celebrating your victory over the green knight?"

Lancelot smiled and looked about to agree but Gwaine snorted.

"O' course not," he said. "I mean over his highness. Did ya see the look on his face when he knighted me? Priceless."

Lancelot gave a teasing grin. "I hardly think Arthur's face was priceless. I remember seeing tears in your eyes during the ceremony, Gwaine, so I know you're proud to be a knight," he said.

"Lies and slander, all of it," Gwaine insisted with a shake of his head, though his cheeks were tinted pink.

"Laudine!"

Merlin turned his head at the familiar voice, even as Gwaine continued to drag him toward the tavern. Luned raced by, barely missing running into them, and down the street.

"Laudine!"

A women stepped out of the nearest inn and smiled when she saw Luned. She was absolutely gorgeous, with wavy hair like spun gold and pale skin, dressed in a pastel orange and deep blue gown. Luned grasped her by the hands, and Merlin noticed he was shorter than Laudine, and beamed.

"I'm a knight!" Luned crowed. "They made me a knight of Camelot!"

Laudine's smile grew as wide as Luned's and she leaned down to press a kiss to Luned's lips. "As you always dreamed."

Merlin saw Luned wrap Laudine up in his arms and lift her, just a bit, to spin her around as he gave a melodious laugh. Then Merlin was shuffled into the tavern and focused back on his newly knighted friends and the terrible choices they were no doubt about to make together.

...

...

**Next Time: My Fair Lady**

_A festival of love is upon Camelot and everyone is invited. Arthur struggles for a way to enjoy the celebrations with Gwen, Morgana isn't the only one getting lots of attention from hopeful suitors, and Gwaine offers to help lift Merlin's drooping spirits, which causes revelations for both the king and his sorcerer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Olde = New
> 
> Áblinnan galdor = Cease spell
> 
> Ende galdorcræft = End magic arts


	8. My Fair Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A festival of love is upon Camelot and everyone is invited. Arthur struggles for a way to enjoy the celebrations with Gwen, Morgana isn't the only one getting lots of attention from hopeful suitors, and Gwaine offers to help lift Merlin's drooping spirits, which causes revelations for both the king and his sorcerer.

Early morning light streamed into the room as Gwen pulled the heavy curtains away from the windows. "Good morning, Morgana," she greeted easily.

In the bed, Morgana woke from a pleasant dream and smiled. "Good morning, Gwen." She sat up, stretching the sleep away. "Today is the Spring Festival."

Gwen nodded as she headed for Morgana's wardrobe to pick out a dress for the day. "The courtyard is already being decorated with holly, ivy, and bay, and I saw five people weaving flowers together into wreaths or circlets on my way here. And there was a gentleman dressed in gaudy robes rushing about delivering sweets to houses with children."

Morgana slid out of bed and made her way to the table where her breakfast awaited. She slowed her steps as she drew near, placing her hands on the back of the chair instead of sitting in it. "It seems at least one suitor is getting an early start," she noted, nodding at the flowers on the table next to the breakfast tray when Gwen looked over. "Not that it matters, of course, delivering flowers through you proves his feelings are nothing more than folly."

The serving maid's face reddened with a blush. "Actually...those are mine," she revealed softly. "Sir Maleagant gave them to me on my way in this morning."

King Bagdemagus's son, one of the new knights chosen from the tournament. Morgana had to give him credit. He was bold to present flowers to a serving girl.

The Lady smiled. "Why, Gwen, you have an admirer among the nobility," she teased, sitting down to eat.

Gwen blushed darker. "Oh no. No, I'm sure that's not true. It's the Spring Festival. People give flowers to everyone during this time." She chose a dress and laid it out on the bed for when Morgana was done eating.

"Yes they do," Morgana agreed. "To everyone they have feelings for."

"Morgana," Gwen said, tone edging on tired.

"Gwen," Morgana teased in return, earning a smile from her servant friend. "You sat in the royal pavilion during the knighting tournament. That meant something, and people know it. You are a beautiful, kind, eligible woman and without even knowing it, you have already captured the hearts of many people. I have no doubt that you will receive many flowers today."

The dark skinned woman shook her head. "You're very kind, Morgana, but I'm not sure about all that. You're lovely too, and kind. I'm sure you'll receive more flowers than anyone."

With a knowing glint in her eye, Morgana said, "I wouldn't be so sure of that."

...

...

When Merlin entered Arthur's chambers that morning, the king was already up and dressed, staring out the window. The dark haired male shut the door and waved his hand to lock it without even a pause.

"Arthur-" he started but was immediately interrupted.

"You're late."

Arthur didn't sound overly upset about it, but he also seemed preoccupied.

Merlin nodded. "I know. And I'll go get your breakfast in a minute, I promise. But Arthur, I was up all night practicing and I finally got the spell right-"

Now Arthur turned to look at Merlin. "Spell? You were practicing magic last night? Merlin, today is just the Spring Festival, not some tournament or battle."

"I know," Merlin stated with a minor shake of his head. It was all the city could talk about. He was very aware that the festival was tonight. "That's why I was up all night."

Arthur sighed and rubbed his face. "So you spent all night practicing love spells then, I assume," he muttered bitterly into his hands.

That made Merlin frown. "No," he denied, his voice just harsh enough to make Arthur look up at him in surprise. "Arthur, love spells are dangerous and tricky. Even if I got it right, it wouldn't be real love. I've seen enough love spells to know that they cause way more harm than they're worth."

If someone was going to love Merlin, he wanted it to be because they truly loved him. He would never force someone to be with him. In fact, that was partly why he'd stayed up late last night practicing this spell. Because Arthur loved Gwen and they were being forced to stay apart due to their stations in life. But if Arthur wanted Gwen, then Merlin would do everything he could to help them be together.

The king looked out his window again, down to the courtyard below. "Love is dangerous and tricky without spells involved," he said. With a wave toward the outside, he continued, "Today is a day for celebrating love, confessing to hidden feelings in the hope of a new future, to waking up and enjoying the birth of life all around us. And yet I, the king, who funds half of the festivities, cannot take part in even a single act of revelry exactly _because_ I am the king. Everything I do is determined by duty and appearances," he finished, sounding exhausted.

Merlin stepped over and clasped Arthur on the shoulder, gaining his full attention. Then he smiled and held up a simple silver ring.

"That's why I made you this last night," he said, taking Arthur's hand and placing the ring in his palm.

Arthur looked at it, rolled it around in his hand. It was a low quality band, made of simple metal and with no precious gems, gold, or silver. A peasant might wear it.

"It's lovely," Arthur said in monotone and with a wince.

Merlin let out one chuckle and took the ring back, holding it up at eye level. "It's enchanted," he revealed. "When you wear it, you won't look like the king. You'll be a nameless commoner."

He saw the moment when Arthur began to understand what this meant. He, the king, could go out and enjoy the festival without worrying that people would act differently around him because he was the king. They wouldn't bow, they wouldn't stare if Arthur chose to dance with a peasant, they wouldn't hold the king accountable for whatever Arthur did that night. However, after only a few moments where Arthur's eyes sparkled and a smile began to grow on his face, he abruptly frowned.

"But Merlin," he began, "if I'm wearing this then Gwen won't recognize me either. I hardly think she would entertain the advances of a random man."

From his trouser pocket, Merlin pulled a second ring. This one was slightly slimmer, more petite looking than the first, but just as common. "That's why I made two. If Gwen wears this one, then she'll be the only one to see through the enchantment." His lips quirked up at the corners. "I tested them on Gaius, so I know they work."

Arthur rolled his eyes and took the thicker ring back from Merlin. "You spent all night on them, I don't doubt they work." He looked at the ring for a few long moments in contemplation - while Merlin used that time to soak in Arthur's easy praise - then slipped it into his own pocket and nodded at Merlin. "Thank you, Merlin. Now you only have two tasks to complete this morning before you help finish preparing for the festival."

Pleased with the gratitude, Merlin smiled. "And what might those be, sire?" he asked lightly.

"Give Guinevere that matching ring, and go fetch my breakfast."

...

...

Gwen was out buying single stem flowers from all over the kingdom as gifts for her friends - Arthur, Morgana, Merlin, Lancelot - when a circlet was presented to her. It was made of pale yellow primroses and snowdrop flowers, woven together with delicate twigs and grasses to help hold its shape and give it a lively green color.

"Oh," she let out. It was very pretty. Looking to the side brought her face to face with the newly knighted Sir Gwaine. "Gwaine. What's this for?"

He let out a puff of air and flipped his hair out of his eyes, though it immediately fell back into them. "It's a circlet. A lovely, beautiful headpiece for a lovely and beautiful woman." Again he presented her with the flower arrangement.

Gwen hesitated. It was the Spring Festival, when people gave flowers to those they cared about. Gwaine flirted with everyone, but did these flowers mean he cared for her more than most? He knew she didn't care for him that way, didn't he? She had thought she made it clear the first time he had come Camelot.

Gwaine leaned down so he could smile charmingly at her from below. It somehow made him look even more dashing in his Camelot red tunic.

"Yer hurtin' my feelings," he said. "They're just flowers. Flowers never hurt anyone."

Feeling silly, Gwen accepted the circlet. It really was lovely, and Gwaine didn't mean anything by it. "Thank you," she said softly.

He grinned brightly at her as he stood back up to his full height. "Yer welcome, my lady."

Gwen laughed once. "I'm still not a Lady, Gwaine. I'm just a maid."

"I know of a few many people who might disagree with you on that," the knight said with a wink. Before she could ask what he meant, Gwaine gave her a playful salute. "Be sure ta wear that tonight. Make all the men fall in love with ya."

As he walked away, Gwen couldn't help but think about how she didn't want "all the men" to fall in love with her. She only wanted one man. It was just that lately, she didn't know which man that was.

...

...

The main street of Camelot was full of vendors. Some sold freshly picked flowers, loose or braided into wreaths or circlets or fun shapes. Some sold herbs bound together to promote health, a happy marriage, fertility, or good luck. There were stalls open selling fancy ribbons and finely made gowns and tunics for people to wear for dancing or flirting in or to give as gifts.

Most of the stalls were also filled with sweet treats and drinks - candied fruits, pastries and pasta with a dozen different fillings and in a myriad of shapes, puddings, barley water, sweetened rice dishes, snowe, sugared nuts, honeyed wine, spiced wine, cakes, cookies, custards, fried cheese, hot buttered beere, and more. It was a plethora of smells that delighted the senses and made the mouth water, and already people were enjoying themselves with food and drink.

Acrobats were setting up in the main courtyard. There were see-saws made from a board over a barrel between vendor stalls. Men on stilts were already walking around and interacting with townsfolk. A ring toss had been set up with simple jewelry or accessories and romantic objects as prizes. Minstrels were performing for anyone who would listen. There were areas devoted to playing skittles, wrestling, and stick fighting. Only the middle of the courtyard stood empty, and that was because it would play host to a lively band and bonfire and be filled with dancing in the evening. The fire was already being built and prepped for sunset.

There was also an old woman in town who would sit near the bridge into the castle and tell people their love fortune for a small price. She never uttered a spell or made any potions so Uther had never stopped her or accused her of witchcraft in all the years she had appeared for the festival. She just sat very still and waited for someone to drop a coin into her basket and then she would look into their eyes and spin elaborate stories about their futures with or without love.

Merlin paused in carrying wood for the bonfire to the courtyard and looked at the old woman. She'd been there since dawn yet her basket had only one coin in it. Taking a coin from his pocket, Merlin tossed it in with the other one. He didn't really care what she said to him about his supposed love life; he just wanted to help her as best he could. She always looked alone.

The old woman looked up at him with wide open eyes. Merlin smiled. "Good day, Miss Dwynwen," he greeted.

"Good day, kind sir," she said in return. "Your love life is very complicated."

Merlin snorted. That was putting it lightly.

Miss Dwynwen was frowning. "You have a kind heart and love many people, friends and family alike. You once thought you had found true love and almost forsook all you knew to capture it, but it was not meant to be."

Now Merlin felt a little uncomfortable. Was Dwynwen talking about Freya? How did she know about that? Or were these just clever words that hit close enough to the truth that they made him think about Freya without actually being about her?

A hand touched Merlin's and he jolted, almost dropping the wood he was carrying. He had never seen Dwynwen touch anyone before, yet that was her wrinkled hand touching his. She smiled kindly up at him, her eyes curving happily.

"Do not worry," she told him. "Though the path toward the future is winding and often difficult, you will find your way. You have already met the love of your life. In time, you will realize you cannot imagine anyone else at your side but them, and they will realize the same about you. The future will be filled with days spent together in mutual happiness, even in the darkest of times. And though one day you will be separated, you and your true love are far too connected to be apart forever; in time, you will be reunited."

As soon as she finished speaking, Dwynwen pulled her hand away and looked down at her basket once more. It was as if she had forgotten Merlin was still standing before her. Merlin wasn't sure whether to be glad of that or not.

It was silly, but when she said he wouldn't be able to imagine anyone else at his side, Merlin's thoughts had immediately been drawn to Arthur. He never wanted to leave Arthur's side, ever. Merlin had sworn fealty to Arthur, promised to be with him for as long as Arthur wanted him, had even stayed with Arthur through a memory wiping spell. But his feelings for Arthur were of loyalty and profound friendship. With Arthur pursuing Gwen, there was no way he could feel anything more, right? Right.

Dwynwen couldn't have meant the king.

Could she?

...

...

The sun had begun to descend from its highest point in the sky and that meant one thing: the main festivities had started. All over Camelot, people stopped their work and began to flock to the main street and the castle courtyard to dance and play games and be merry.

Morgana had just dismissed Gwen, insisting she could dress herself for the evening's events. Gwen was happily thinking of her own party dress she had taken out that morning, hanging in her house just waiting to be put on. It was yellow, with intricate flower designs at the hem, neck, and wrists, and a lovely ribbon sash around the middle. Another strip of yellow cloth would be tied around her neck in place of any jewels, and she would braid her hair up on top of her head before placing Gwaine's flower circlet on top. She couldn't wait.

That's when she saw the man coming up the stairs. She knew him; Lanval was one of Arthur's many new knights. He was a dark skinned man about Elyan's age but with a more chiseled face, making him appear rugged no matter how he tried to seem friendly. He and Elyan were good friends even after only a little more than a month training together. In his hands was a bountiful bouquet made of large light pink roses, fuchsia daisy poms, deep warm pink alstroemeria blossoms, periwinkle stock flowers, and blooms of violet monte casino.

His face lit up when he caught sight of Gwen coming down the stairs toward him and Gwen inwardly groaned. It was like Morgana had cursed her this morning by saying she would receive many flowers today.

"Hello there, Guinevere," Lanval greeted sweetly, holding out the flowers toward her.

Gwen held up her hands. "I understand that today is the Spring Festival and that it is a time for confessing to others how you feel, but I'm sorry. I cannot accept your gift. I've already received enough tokens from people I do not care for. Please, save your affections for someone who will return them."

Lanval's face fell. Instead of making him look sad, however, it made him look stolid and unapproachable. The apology for her brush off was already pulling at Gwen's lips when Lanval shook his head.

"You misunderstand," he said. "These flowers are not from me and they are not for you. They're a gift for the Lady Morgana from...someone who cares for her from afar."

Gwen's face was hot with an embarrassed flush. "Oh." She reached out and accepted the flowers from Lanval with slightly unsteady hands, her eyes lowered. "I'm so sorry. I jumped to conclusions."

Lanval smiled and touched Gwen's shoulder lightly. "Think nothing of it. Will you be attending the festival tonight?"

"Yes," Gwen said with a nod. "I was just on my way to prepare. And you?"

He shook his head with a secretive smile. "No. I have plans elsewhere tonight. Maybe at the next festival." Pulling his hand back he said, "Say hello to your brother for me, would you?"

"I will," Gwen promised before Lanval turned and headed away from her once more.

She looked at the flowers in her hands. They really were gorgeous, but the blooms were from all over, farther than Gwen could ever hope to travel in her life, and she was sure that at least one was out of season. How had Lanval - or rather, his friend of sorts - come by this particular bouquet?

Still wondering, she turned around to head back to Morgana's room for one last errand before prepping herself for the festivities.

...

...

Merlin met Arthur in his chambers three hours after the main festival event had begun. The king was already dressed in a festival tunic and pants - something much less regal than he would normally deign to wear but that a peasant at the festival would. He was pacing as well.

"Arthur," Merlin said, walking over and catching his king by the shoulders to stop him. "What's wrong?"

The golden haired man sighed. "I'm not sure about this," he confessed, looking into Merlin's eyes.

"What?" Merlin shook his head and smiled, despite the weird shift his stomach gave thinking maybe Arthur didn't want to celebrate with Gwen after all. What on Earth? "Arthur, stop. You want to go to the festival. I know you do. And you'll drink mead and eat cakes and dance with Gwen all night."

Arthur nodded but it wasn't as confident as his usual agreements. "What if the spell wears off in the middle of the courtyard and someone sees? They'll demand to know how I came by the spell. What if I give you away? The people of Camelot are still getting used to the idea of magic users roaming free amongst them. I don't want you to get hurt because of one of my selfish whims."

Now Merlin frowned and his grip on Arthur's shoulders tightened. "You aren't being selfish, Arthur. You are a great king and you deserve to celebrate the new season with your people." He cocked his head to the side. "And what happened to all that trust from this morning? I worked hard on these rings. I know they work and they won't fail in just a few hours."

Actually he didn't, but if Merlin believed in it then Arthur would believe in it and if both of them believed in it then nothing could go wrong. That, at least, Merlin was sure of.

"Now," he said, "put on that ring and let's sneak out for the night. You have a party to get to."

Arthur's growing smile was reward enough.

...

...

There was a silver band on Gwen's right ring finger. Merlin had given it to her earlier as she retrieved lunch for Morgana. He'd been very vague about it, only saying that she had to wear it tonight because Arthur needed her to. And since she was wearing Gwaine's flower circlet, she saw no harm in also wearing the ring, even if she didn't understand. It was very plain, unlike anything Arthur might buy himself. The unfamiliar weight was a constant reminder of her confusion.

She was walking into the courtyard where the bonfire had just been lit. The smells on the way here had been nearly unbearable, so sweet and lovely and delicious. So far all she had bought was some honeyed wine while she was walking, and now it was almost gone. The festival celebrations were beautiful to behold, but she wished she was spending it with someone. Every young maiden and man was looking for their knight or princess tonight. She only wished she had her own knight by her side tonight.

Just as she came to a stop to admire the couples already dancing and listen to the music, a fritter was held out to her. Gwen jumped in surprise and turned, finding Arthur Pendragon dressed as a peasant and offering her food.

"Arth-," she cut herself off, looking around. No one else seemed to notice that their king was among them. "What are you doing out here?" she asked quietly.

Arthur waited until Gwen had accepted the fritter before taking her empty wooden cup and setting it on a nearby bench. Then he leaned in close, his blue eyes catching the dancing light of the fire mixed with the sunset. Moments like these reminded Gwen of what she found attractive about Arthur.

"I'm here to enjoy the evening," he said conspiratorially.

Gwen lightly smacked him on the arm with her free hand. "But what if someone sees? The king dancing with a servant?"

Arthur didn't move away. All he did was roll his eyes. "Of course Merlin didn't explain," he muttered. "The ring you wear," he said as he pointed, "has an enchantment on it, same as the one I wear. No one but you can tell who I am tonight. We can enjoy ourselves without worry."

So that was what Merlin had meant. Gwen felt a smile curl her lips and took a bite of the fritter. It was excellent, with just the right amount of filling and sweetness. She offered half of it to Arthur, which he accepted with an answering smile. When the pastry was all gone, they dusted off their hands and then Arthur held his right hand out in a silent bid for a dance. With another light smile, Gwen accepted and let the king pull her into the throng of people.

...

...

And so everything was as it should be.

Merlin sat on a bench at the edge of the courtyard dance floor, watching everything. He slowly spun the ring on his right middle finger, the thin metal band a foreign presence, as he watched Arthur and Gwen bow to each other before starting a dance.

He felt mixed emotions about tonight. Arthur was happy, Merlin's spell was working, and he'd been able to help out both of his friends. That was all good. But part of Merlin had hoped to spend at least a moment or two with his king, who had always sought Merlin out at parties in the castle in the past. Tonight Merlin had no one to enjoy the party with, and the drinks weren't free. Still, Merlin didn't mind much. He could spend the entire festival keeping an eye out, watching other people enjoy themselves, and still not think the night a waste.

Like watching Pelleas stumble over to the baker's daughter standing with her friends, offering her a bundle of fresh flower blooms and stuttering out a dance request. Or seeing a little girl thrust a single slightly squished flower at another little girl before both of them ran giggling off into the crowds by the main street, out of sight. Or hearing the minstrels trying to sing songs of great heroes and not be drowned out by the band playing upbeat, festive songs as couples danced. He watched two teens feed each other candied fruits while an elderly group drank buttered beere.

Sir Urien, wearing a fetching black tunic, approached Morgana with two large mugs of some drink. She considered him for a long moment, during which he stood perfectly still, and then accepted the mug offered to her. He said something to her that apparently peeked Morgana's interest because she lifted her eyebrows just before downing the entire beverage in one go, to Urien's great astonishment. Grabbing Urien's hand, Morgana led him away from the dancing area. Merlin wasn't sure, but it seemed she was leading him away from the festivities entirely.

Two ladies in simple yet lovely festival gowns spun past, interrupting Merlin's thoughts. He recognized the red haired, pale woman in the auburn dress, her hair done up in a braided bun. It was Laudine, the Lady Merlin had seen with Luned after the knighting tournament. She was dancing with another woman, whose skin was tanned from the sun. The second lady wore a festive headpiece that just barely let her copper hair peek out. It had feathers on it and, mixed with the cheerful makeup around her bright eyes, made the new woman look like a rare bird. Merlin was a bit upset that she looked so much better under feathers than he did. But he was also curious. Laudine and Luned had seemed like quite the match the other day, they had even kissed, and yet Laudine was here dancing with another lady and not with her literal knight in shining armor.

Every knight in Camelot was something to behold, and Merlin could see most of them from where he sat. None of them were wearing armor tonight, but Arthur still seemed to shine in the firelight.

The tanned woman spun a laughing Laudine and then dipped her with all the grace that any of Arthur's knights could have had. It was such an expert move, pulled off so fluidly, that Merlin knew they must have done it a thousand times. When she pulled Laudine back up, the Lady wrapped her arms around the tan woman's shoulders. They stared at each other for several long seconds, fond smiles on both their faces. Merlin looked away as they leaned in toward each other, more confused than ever but still not wanting to intrude on their moment.

Just then, someone plopped down next to him on the bench with a great sigh.

"Fer a festival of love, ya don' seem to be having much luck with it."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "It's the Spring Festival. The love part is extra."

Gwaine let out another heavy sigh. "Ya sure know how ta kill a mood, Merlin."

"The mood is all around us," Merlin countered, motioning to the dancers, the music, the children playing, the bonfire. "I didn't kill anything."

Gwaine stared at Merlin in silence for a few lingering moments. Then he laid a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "You just seem sad is all," he began. Then his voice deepened. "If ya wanted, I'd be yer festival lover."

Lover. True love.

Merlin thought of Freya, with her dark hair and frail body, so frightened of the world. She wouldn't have enjoyed the festival much. There were too many people, too much loud noise, too great a chance that she could hurt someone. Still, Merlin would have asked if she wanted to come, even just to hear her say No.

Then his thoughts turned to Arthur, as they had all day. Arthur had wanted to attend the festival so badly that Merlin had charmed rings in order to allow it. He was so different from Freya - golden sun hair and bright blue eyes, body muscular from years of training with his knights. They were so different, Arthur and Freya, but they were the only two people in the world he would've wanted to spend the festival of love with.

Merlin's fingers abruptly stopped twirling the ring on his right hand.

Wait. He wanted to attend the _festival of love_ with Arthur?

And just like that, Merlin imagined Arthur insisting he could win every game set out before trying to prove it; the hidden king appraising every performer and deciding to call this one or that one back for a show inside the castle with better pay; locking arms and drinking spiced wine together before Arthur switched Merlin's drink for barley water because somehow he was still under the impression that Merlin spent a lot of time in the tavern and he didn't want Merlin drunk for a second of their night together; Merlin would have to act insulted when really he would be touched that Arthur cared. Later they would join the throng of dancers just like Laudine and her lady. They would spin around and jump and quick step and clap their hands around the bonfire with all the other couples. And no one would look twice at them or think it was strange. As they snuck back into the castle, well after midnight, Arthur would send Merlin one of his secret smiles, saved only for Merlin, and the wizard's heart would race. He would insist that Merlin stay the night because, after all, the festival was still raging downstairs now wasn't it?

"Merlin? Did ya hear me?" Gwaine's voice tried edging in through Merlin's chaotic thoughts.

"Yeah," Merlin agreed without knowing the question. He was stuck in his fantasy, on the sound of their enchanted rings clinking together as he and Arthur clasped hands before running out of the courtyard like youngsters struck by first love.

Gwaine frowned. "That's it?"

"Sounds great," Merlin said, giving a shaky smile and finally turning his head to look at the rugged knight.

Now Gwaine nudged Merlin's shoulder with his own. "I'm serious, Merlin," he said, all humor gone from him. He made certain he had Merlin's attention this time before continuing, "If ya wanted me ta be, I would."

...

...

The song that had been playing ended and Arthur and Gwen slowed to a stop along with everyone else. The band took a few moments to breathe, allowing the dancers the same courtesy, and pick a new tune to play next. In the resulting quiet - still loud with talking, games, and the low roar of the fire, but much quieter than before - they could talk.

"I'm not surprised you're a lovely dancer," Gwen said.

Arthur grinned. "Really? I am." At her inquisitive look, he explained, "I haven't attended a festival like this since I was a young boy. All the parties in the castle have much more rigid dance rules."

"Ah." Gwen nodded. "At least you're a fast learner."

"Yes, at least," Arthur agreed with a single laugh.

Now Gwen sighed. "I wish everyone could be enjoying themselves like this tonight."

Arthur lifted one eyebrow. "And who isn't? The whole city is here and then some."

There was a glint in Gwen's eyes. "Well I hear the king couldn't make it, and that is indeed a shame." Arthur grinned at her but she frowned and it vanished. "But I actually meant him."

She motioned and Arthur followed it to find Merlin sitting alone at the edge of the dance area. He was watching other people enjoy themselves but seemed isolated from the crowds around him. Something in Arthur's chest dropped at the sight and he frowned.

"I'm sure-" he began just as the music started up again.

Caught in the crowd, they continued to dance, though Arthur's mind was still on Merlin's lonely figure. Merlin had ensured that Arthur could come to the festival and enjoy it just like everyone else, yet he was sitting on the sidelines, alone. Of all the people in Camelot, Arthur would've thought Merlin would be one of the most active revelers - if rumor was to believed, Merlin spent plenty of time in the tavern or with pretty girls. Why hadn't he grabbed a drink or a dance partner? It couldn't be that he'd been turned down - Merlin was both attractive and had a position in the royal household. So why was he -

While spinning around, Arthur saw that Merlin was no longer alone on the sidelines. Gwaine had taken a seat beside him and was leaning in close, giving Merlin his typical suave bedroom eyes. And now Arthur couldn't concentrate at all.

It really was no business of his. He was the king and yes, Merlin was his servant and Gwaine was his knight, but they could do whatever they wanted. He had no say. Still, imagining Gwaine taking Merlin's hand and leading him away from the festivities into his bed - or worse, the bed of in inn - made Arthur's stomach roil.

He locked arms with Gwen to turn around and never missed a step in the dances, but all the joy was gone from the evening for him, replaced by worry and concern.

Gwaine had always seemed more loyal to Merlin than to Arthur. It never really bothered Arthur because no matter what, Gwaine still served Camelot. What had bothered Arthur was how Merlin always seemed to laugh and smile more when Gwaine was around. Arthur considered Merlin a friend, but times where they simply laughed and enjoyed spending time together were rare and short.

If Gwaine asked Merlin to dance, he would probably get a yes. And if Gwaine flirted with Merlin tonight, gave him a gift of a flower wreath, took Merlin home for the night –

It was silly. Merlin was no blushing virgin, after all, so there was no need to worry about his virtue. Or...was he? Oh gods, was Merlin a virgin?

He stepped down hard on an unsuspecting foot and Gwen winced. "I'm so sorry," he apologized with a grimace. "I was...distracted."

Gwen smiled kindly at him, as she always did. "It's alright, Arthur." She touched his arm with a gentle hand. "Go check on Merlin. I can sit out a dance."

Arthur cast his gaze around while he thought. Go check on Merlin? Arthur didn't want to - except that he did. He honestly, truly did want to go spend time with his servant. And Gwen knew it. She was always so perceptive. But for Arthur to admit to it? Arthur was the king and Merlin was a servant, albeit one with magic. Even when Merlin became Court Sorcerer, because one day he would be, having any sort of relationship with Merlin at all would be fraught with difficulty.

A relationship? Arthur's brain had run away with him. He was worried about Gwaine taking advantage of Merlin, not about any possible relationship with...Except...

Arthur was a gifted liar. He told lies of strength and courage to keep up moral and win battles, lied to protect sorcerers and druids, lied to stop a war before it could begin. As a prince, Arthur had learned to lie while telling the truth and few – if any – questioned his words. He even lied to himself - most frequently about not noticing anything was strange about Merlin. But at the moment, Arthur wouldn't have been able to convince himself the sky was blue in the day.

There was a familiar dark haired male hiding half in the shadow of the castle walls. He wore a light blue tunic and held a single tulip blossom held dejectedly in his hands. Arthur would have given him no thought at the moment, conflicted as he was, except that the man kept glancing over at them with a forlorn expression. It was not an emotion Arthur was used to seeing from Lancelot.

Suddenly relief rushed over Arthur like a great wave swallowing him whole. It shocked the breath right from his lungs. "I think," he said, "you could make someone's night a lot brighter if, instead of taking a break, you danced with him instead."

Confusion played on Gwen's face. "I don't understand. Merlin would much prefer your company tonight, rather than dance with me, I think."

"Not Merlin," Arthur shook his head and motioned behind Gwen. "Lancelot."

Now Gwen was blushing, the color barely visible in the night lit only by fire and starlight. "Oh. I- That is- But-"

With a smile, Arthur said, "Go, Guinevere. Enjoy the festival."

It was surprising how comfortable he was with the idea of Gwen spending time with Lancelot tonight. He didn't worry about Lancelot taking advantage of Gwen or stealing her away from him. In fact, he was glad that Gwen had someone else she could turn to when Arthur wasn't there for her.

"You as well," Gwen agreed with a matching smile.

Arthur refused to blush. He was the king, after all. He let Gwen walk away first, after they both bowed their goodbyes. The surprise and pleasure that crossed Lancelot's face when he saw Gwen coming over to him was more than enough to make any slight doubts Arthur had vanish. Only once Gwen had stopped in front of the knight did Arthur turn and head over to grab Merlin from Gwaine.

He wasn't sure what he would say to pull Merlin away, but he could come up with something. Surely. He was the King of Camelot, after all.

...

...

Merlin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry, Gwaine," he apologized. "I'm a little distracted tonight. What did you say?"

Gwaine slouched next to him with a large sigh. "Ya sure know how ta make a guy feel welcome," he said. "I offered to be yer festival lover if ya wanted me to."

"Oh." Merlin stared at his long haired friend for a few moments, then his face heated up. Was Gwaine being serious or his usual 'flirts with everyone' self? Considering Merlin's thoughts on Arthur just now, he was leaning toward the former and wasn't sure he could handle that at the moment. "Uh, that's...Thank you, Gwaine, but...Really, I don't need a lover for the festival."

That brought a scowl to Gwaine's usually cheerful face. "No, but it makes everythin' more interesting. Ya plan on just sittin' here on the sidelines all night, watching every happy couple dance by and havin' no one ta share it with? That sounds like fun ta you?"

Merlin shook his head. "I'm just glad to see everyone so happy. I might not be fun, Gwaine, but it's alright."

"It's not alright," Gwaine countered. "Ya are one of the greatest men I have ever met, an' I have traveled a lot farther than either you or his highness. If anyone deserves ta find love, it's you. An' if the princess is too busy sittin' up there in his castle ta-"

"Excuse me."

Merlin looked up from his friend and froze. Arthur was standing before the bench, arms held behind his back and looking more uncomfortable than Merlin had ever seen him. He wasn't twitching or fidgeting, but his expression was slightly pinched and he stood stiff and rigid. What was Arthur doing? Where was Gwen? Casting his gaze around, Merlin found Gwen talking with Lancelot, blushes on both of their faces.

"Can I help you?" Gwaine asked, his voice a tad angry from being interrupted.

Arthur cleared his throat nervously. "I was wondering if I might have a moment with," he gestured toward Merlin, "this-with Merlin."

Merlin rolled his eyes at Arthur's attempts to be normal as the same time that Gwaine said, his words a mix between upset and joking and thus strange to hear, "Maybe in a bit. You did interrupt us after all."

Oh right. Gwaine couldn't recognize Athur. To him this was just some random villager butting in. The king frowned at the knight.

"You're a knight, right?" he asked, and he sounded a bit too proper to be a normal farmer.

Gwaine nodded. "Aye."

"And you frequent the tavern in town?"

"Aye," Gwaine said again.

Arthur motioned toward the main street, just outside the courtyard where the dancing was happening. "I was walking this way when I saw a drunk man arguing with the tavern owner and his wife. The drunkard was getting pretty violent and threatened the woman, but he had a weapon so I-"

Gwaine was up and saying "I'll be right back," to Merlin before Arthur could finish what was no doubt a lie. It wasn't the tavern itself that drove him, but the thought of violence against its peaceful owner or his sweet but sassy wife.

When Gwaine was out of earshot, Merlin shook his head. "That wasn't very nice."

Arthur shrugged. "I'll apologize later." He wouldn't.

Patting the seat next to himself, indicating Arthur to take the spot Gwaine used to have, Merlin asked, "Did you need something from me?"

For a moment, Arthur said nothing. He seemed to be deciding whether to stare at the crowd or at Merlin, though both options appeared to cause him some strange sort of pain. Finally, he nodded.

"Yes. I needed you."

"For what?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shook his head. "No, not for something. Just you. I saw you sitting here by yourself and it made me feel awful. You were up all night working on this ring for me, you helped me get to the festival to enjoy myself for once, but you aren't enjoying it."

Oh. Merlin frowned. For a split second he had entertained the idea that maybe Arthur had come over to ask Merlin to be his festival partner instead of Gwen, but it was his conscience that drove him. Merlin shrugged. "I'm-"

"And then I saw Gwaine sitting here and I felt worse," Arthur interrupted like he couldn't help it. He gripped the bench below him tightly. "I didn't want Gwaine to be the one you spent the festival with. I wanted it to be me," he rushed out, as if that would keep Merlin from hearing it.

Merlin's heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest. "But...Gwen?" He motioned toward the place where Gwen and Arthur had just been dancing.

"Lancelot can take care of Guinevere for awhile," Arthur said with a shrug. "But if-Do you want some custard?"

"I'm sorry?"

Arthur stood up and extended his hand out to Merlin. "Custard, Merlin. It's a sweet treat. And I've heard a cook here tonight makes one that tastes like a fresh harvest's pumpkin pie."

Still confused, Merlin accepted Arthur's hand to get up, flushing when Arthur started walking without letting go. They were heading down the street holding hands. Merlin jerked to a stop, forcing Arthur to stop as well. When the king passed Merlin a curious and slightly irritated raised eyebrow, Merlin lifted their hands a bit before letting them drop again.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" he asked. "Are you honestly saying you would rather spend the festival of love with me than with Gwen?"

Arthur hesitated, casting his eyes over to Gwen for a moment before looking back at Merlin. He heaved a great sigh and looked down at where he was still holding Merlin's hand. Merlin covered his face with his free hand.

"Just because I helped you get to the festival doesn't mean you owe me anything, Arthur. That's not why I do it," the wizard said, voice tinged with sadness. After all these years, did Arthur not know that?

A slight squeeze of his hand had Merlin lowering his free hand from his face so he could see. Arthur's lips were quirked up to one side.

"I know," the king said like that should be obvious. "You do whatever you do whenever you do it so that Camelot is safe and I am happy." He shrugged. "Tonight I am doing the same for you."

Merlin's eyebrows came down in confusion. "What?" Arthur didn't have magic, and how would hanging out with Merlin be keeping Camelot safe?

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Really, Merlin, sometimes I wonder if you really do have a mental affliction." He took a deep breath. "Tonight I want to do what I can to make you happy." At Merlin's sudden inhale, he continued. "Don't choke. I'm not declaring undying love for you or anything quite so dramatic. I just know that I want to be the one you spend this night with, not anyone else."

Not Gwaine, he meant. The king had been jealous of his knight. Arthur had no way of knowing that Merlin hadn't ever considered Gwaine beyond his jokes and light flirtations. It had never been an option.

He gave Arthur's hand a slight squeeze in response and Arthur locked eyes with him. "Are you sure Gwen is okay with this?"

Arthur let out one small laugh. "She encouraged it."

Now Merlin smiled. "Then I'm glad you're going to spend the rest of the festival with me, and I would love some custard."

He darted forward just as Arthur opened his mouth to say "Of course you would" and landed a quick and teasing peck to Arthur's cheek. Arthur choked on his words, his grip on Merlin's hand tightening almost painfully for a moment. The king's face was bright red now and Merlin was almost completely certain it wasn't in anger at all.

" _A-are you mad_?" Arthur hissed out. "We-I am-You are-In _public_?" It was obvious he wanted to shout the last bit but was restraining himself.

Merlin laughed and gave his head one good shake, wriggling his fingers so that his ring clacked against Arthur's. "No one knows or cares, Arthur," he said, motioning around at all the people not paying them any mind. "Now come on, you promised to buy me some custard."

It was only after Merlin had dragged Arthur ten steps down the road that Arthur found his voice again. He didn't sound flustered but a glance at his still red tinted face proved otherwise.

"I don't remember promising to _buy_ you anything, _Mer_ lin."

Merlin shrugged. "I know. But if you do, then I'll tell you everything I saw happening tonight, including what Morgana was up to, and the knights."

Arthur scoffed. "I don't listen to idle gossip, Merlin. I'm a king."

He bought Merlin a custard and listened to him tell Arthur about each of his knights that Merlin saw at the festival in detail, even as he complained Merlin was making it all sound too romantic. He also ate half the custard from Merlin's bowl.

...

...

**Next Time: The Sorcerer's Apprentice**

_Arthur makes a stunning announcement and Merlin's life will never be the same. Then a young boy comes to Camelot, hoping to become Merlin's apprentice…in magic. His intentions are cloudy, but when danger looms, Luke shows his true colors. Is Merlin's first apprentice good, or evil?_


	9. The Sorcerer's Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur makes a stunning announcement and Merlin's life will never be the same. Then a young boy comes to Camelot, hoping to become Merlin's apprentice…in magic. His intentions are cloudy, but when danger looms, Luke shows his true colors. Is Merlin's first apprentice good, or evil?

Merlin looked at himself in the mirror and took a deep breath. His royal ceremony clothes looked foreign, alien. The rich blues of his shirt contrasted the black of his pants in a lovely way, but the cape of fabric hanging off his shoulders made him feel like a fool rather than nobility. Arthur's cape made him look regal and dashing, Merlin's made him look like a cheap imitation of royalty.

There was an affectionate sigh from behind him and then Gwen appeared in the mirror. "You look like you're about to attend a burning."

Merlin frowned. "I might be," he countered. "This is insane. Arthur is insane and I am insane for letting him go through with this!"

Gwen placed her hands on his shoulders comfortingly. The action felt stabilizing. She locked eyes with him in the mirror. "You know Arthur wouldn't do this if he didn't think it would turn out alright. He wouldn't do this if he thought it would put your life in danger." Merlin snorted derisively and Gwen shook him lightly. "You know I'm right, don't lie. Everything is going to be alright. I promise."

That was probably true. Arthur had grown more mature over the years, and he had become much more kingly since his father's death. Besides, they had talked about today's ceremony countless times since Arthur had become King. No, since Arthur had learned of Merlin's magic. They were ready for this.

Merlin just hoped the rest of the kingdom was ready for it too.

He sighed. "I still look like a fool," he muttered.

Gwen smiled. "I think I can help with that." She unhooked his cloak from around his shoulders and walked out of view. Merlin already liked the outfit better. In a moment Gwen was back, now with a familiar red fabric in her hands. "Here."

Merlin couldn't help but turn and smile at her. "Gwen, you're amazing," he complimented, accepting her gift. He frowned curiously at it once it was in his hands. "But this isn't mine." The fabric was much too rich.

"No." Gwen took the cloth back and proceeded to tie it around Merlin's neck. "I made this one specifically for today, to match your new clothes." She pulled her hands back once the neckerchief was in place and smiled. "You look much more like yourself now."

Merlin looked at himself in the mirror again and gave a slight smile. "Yeah. Thank you, Gwen." He turned and hugged her tightly. "Not just for today, but for everything."

Gwen smiled as she held him in return. "You're welcome," she said with a slight laugh in her voice. "Now you need to get going or you'll be late for the ceremony."

"Oh, right." Merlin pulled back. "I'll see you there."

Gwen nodded. "Of course. Good luck."

...

...

Arthur looked out into the crowd gathered and took a deep breath. All of the nobility across Camelot were gathered, as well as those from Camelot's allies. Merlin was seated at the end of the first row, close to the middle of the room and right in Arthur's line of sight. He looked only mildly nervous, sitting a little too stiffly in his chair, though Arthur knew his manservant must be close to a breakdown. The closer to this day they had come the more nervous Merlin had become. At least Gwen had made sure he didn't put on the wrong robes this morning.

Wait. Was he wearing a neckerchief? The sight made Arthur smile and some of his own nerves fell away. No matter what happened, he was still Arthur's Merlin. Things were changing, both between them and throughout the kingdom, but at least that would never change. This was a big step they were taking, but it was for the good of Camelot. Everything would be okay.

"You are no doubt curious as to why I have gathered you all here today," Arthur began speaking, his voice rich and clear and strong. The coronation was only a few months behind them. "It is so that I may make a very important announcement, one that will affect the future of Camelot, followed by a grand feast to mark the occasion. Many of you probably remember the day I first pulled the sword from the stone."

There was a quiet murmur and most of the nobles nodded their heads to some degree. Arthur nodded in return.

"That day I was told a prophesy. I was told that there would be a sorcerer at my side when I ruled. A good and trustworthy magic user. That sorcerer would help me to govern the kingdom; to make the right decisions. Today I am announcing that I have found my sorcerer."

The murmur was less quiet this time and people were glancing at each other, interest and curiosity on every face; worry on some.

"Yes," Arthur said and the whole room fell silent. "Growing up under my father's great rule, there were times when I was not sure about having a sorcerer stand by my side, just as I'm sure many of you are thinking. But I know now that I need the help of a powerful and good sorcerer. Magic is a complicated trait; one that needs attention and knowledge that I do not possess. So today I am naming a Court Sorcerer. The Court Sorcerer will be in charge of all queries and concerns involving magic that may arise."

There was an undercurrent of concern in the room. These nobles and knights had lived under Uther's rule for so long, feared magic for so long, that it was no doubt hard for them to imagine giving such power to a magic user; to trust a sorcerer that much. Uther had once had a sorcerer in his court, Arthur knew, but those who knew of her would also remember the tales of her treachery.

"Now I know that you will be wary of a sorcerer, and I know that many of you might be wondering how I could trust a sorcerer so easily with so much power. But I know this sorcerer to be a good man and a friend to Camelot and its allies. At least in terms of magic, we are in safe hands," Arthur said almost off-handedly, gaining a fond eye roll from Merlin.

"Many witches and wizards have approached me since my proclamation that magic is no longer illegal. Each one wanted to take the spot of the sorcerer prophesized to stand beside me." Luckily most of them had calmly accepted Arthur's rejection of them without incident. "However I knew only one person could fill that spot, and I have no doubts whatsoever that I have chosen correctly. So, starting today, I introduce to you your Court Sorcerer: my manservant, Merlin."

He motioned to Merlin, who stood up and walked up the three steps to stand beside Arthur in front of the crowd. Everyone seemed uncomfortable with Arthur's choice. As Arthur had said, this was his manservant, a commoner with no obvious special talents. Arthur placed a hand on Merlin's shoulder and gave him a nod. Time to change their minds.

Merlin took a deep breath, faced the crowd, and let his eyes turn gold. He lifted his right hand and a moment later there was a flame cupped in his palm. The flame danced with the barest movement of Merlin's fingers, swirling, burning brighter, simmering at his whim. It jumped from one hand to the other like a living thing. Sparks flicked from the ends of the flame tongues and formed the shape of a small dragon, flying up into the air as it slowly burned out. Once the dragon was gone, Merlin shut his hand and the flame was extinguished. Merlin let out a shaking breath into the silent air of the great hall and lifted innocent blue eyes to the crowd of stunned onlookers.

At least his friends, the ones who knew about him, seemed proud of his show.

Arthur's voice cut through the silence like lightning through the sky, sudden and demanding all attention. "I don't care how you know Merlin. Yes he is my manservant, _and_ he is a knowledgeable sorcerer. He is a good, trustworthy man, as most of you who have met him should know. He is also now the Court Sorcerer and you must treat him as you would treat me." The crowd didn't know whether to look at their king as he spoke or at the newly ousted sorcerer beside him. "Show him respect as you would any knight or lord of Camelot," he stated, but it was more of an order. "In time I know that you will all come to trust in Merlin as I do."

Arthur squeezed Merlin's shoulder and that was all the prompting Merlin needed. He bowed low to the gathered lords and knights and then moved to take his seat again. Every eye followed him as he went.

…

…

"Since when are ya a sorcerer?" Gwaine asked.

Merlin jumped and turned to see his friend leaning on the wall by the doors to the Great Hall. Arthur had held him back after he dismissed the nobles and knights, and checked that Merlin was alright and to talk about the possible repercussions of this decision. He had even offered to post guards around the tower entrance to ensure his protection, though Merlin declined. Then he had offered Merlin to sleep in Arthur's chambers with him, and Merlin had stumbled his way to the door with an equally as fumbling refusal. Merlin hadn't been expecting to be ambushed as soon as he left the room.

"Gwaine! You startled me," he half-admonished, his heart rate jumping. Gwaine just lifted an eyebrow and Merlin shrugged. "Since forever."

"Even back when I firs' met ya?" the knight asked curiously. Merlin nodded. "An' tha' time when Arthur traveled ta Caerleon?" Another nod. "An' when-"

"Yes, Gwaine. Every time," Merlin preempted.

Gwaine shifted where he stood, from one leg to the other, and crossed his arms. He glanced down the hall each way. He looked uncomfortable.

"Does it bother you?" Merlin asked quietly.

He and Gwaine were close friends. Heck, Gwaine had even offered to flirt with him during the festival of love! Merlin had thought of how the kingdom would react to his secret, but he hadn't considered his friends. When Arthur had accepted his magic so easily, Merlin's main worries about how everyone else he knew would take it had slipped away. Until now. Would his magic come between him and Gwaine?

Gwaine shot Merlin an incredulous look. "The magic? Heck no. It's good, knowin' you can protect yerself. But why didn' ya tell me?" he asked, and it was just this side of a whine.

That made Merlin smile. He reached out and touched Gwaine's arm. "I couldn't tell anyone, not for a long time. Before Arthur was king, I would've been killed if my secret got out. If someone found out, it wasn't because I told them, but because I'd screwed up and got caught. Trust me, I would have told you if I could have."

His comments seemed to quell the anxiety inside Gwaine and the knight smiled, dropping his arms to his sides.

"Well then, I s'pose it's alright," he consented. "But in exchange fer keepin' me in the dark, ya have ta show me some of this magic o' yers."

"What?" Merlin let out as Gwaine grabbed him by the arm and dragged him down the hallway.

Gwaine nodded. "Hope Arthur didn' have any plans for ya today, because I'm kidnappin' ya."

Merlin let Gwaine pull him away, but it was more because he could tell Gwaine wasn't completely okay with Merlin's secret yet than anything else. He would do whatever it took to help Gwaine adjust and to keep his friendship.

...

...

A figure in a faded green cloak entered the city of Camelot, pausing only briefly once inside the gates. They looked around at the stalls and houses of the lower town for a few moments and then made their way quickly but leisurely toward the castle itself. No one paid them any mind. No guards even glanced their way. Even though magic was made legal only days ago, security was horribly lax.

This would be too easy.

...

...

Merlin was just grabbing his satchel to go collect herbs for Gaius when there was a knock at the door. He slipped the strap of his bag over his shoulder before answering. At the door was a guard, who gave a quick bow at the sight of him.

"My Lord Merlin, His Highness requests your presence in the throne room."

Merlin fought not to flinch. It was so strange, being called a Lord. He needed to get used to it though. He was Court Sorcerer now, and that changed Merlin's position in life. Even if he was still cleaning Arthur's bedroom each day.

"Alright. Lead the way," he said.

The guard gave a short nod and then turned and walked down the hall and stairs. Merlin followed him, even though he knew perfectly well how to get to the throne room on his own. They walked across the courtyard and into the main portion of the castle, and down a hallway. The guard stopped at the doors to the grand hall and stood with his arms at his sides, stoic and steady as a statue.

Merlin nodded at him. "Thank you."

He pushed open one of the doors to the hall and slipped inside. Arthur was standing just at the bottom of the stairs where his throne sat. He looked very serious, a frown etched deep on his face. There were four guards, forming a box around the sixth person in the room: a boy. He couldn't be more than fourteen, and had sandy colored hair. His wrists were tied behind his back with thick and sturdy rope and he was on his knees before the King.

He must be a sorcerer, since Merlin had been called in.

Arthur looked up as Merlin shut the door. "Ah, Merlin. Good of you to join us." Ever since the Spring Festival, Arthur had always greeted Merlin with a smile, as if he couldn't help the way his lips lifted at the mere sight of his servant. He wasn't smiling now.

Merlin nodded as he came up to stand by his king. "You sent for me?"

Arthur motioned to the boy before them. Now in front of the boy, Merlin could see his blue eyes. They were in such contrast to his light hair that at first Merlin thought they were black, instead of simply dark blue - like water so deep only the barest light could reach it. The boy's eyes narrowed at him. Arthur put his hands on his hips.

"Yes. It's only been two weeks and yet it seems you already have fans in the magical community." Arthur didn't sound particularly pleased about that. What had this boy done to annoy him?

"You can't be serious," the boy spat. " _That_ isn't Merlin. You said you would let me see Merlin!" he shouted at Arthur. Oh, that could be it.

Arthur didn't tense nearly as much as Merlin did. He hated it whenever someone was rude to Arthur, and something about this boy's tone sounded dangerous. Arthur frowned.

"Trust me, this _is_ Merlin." He opened his mouth to say more, but the boy interrupted him.

"No it isn't! He's too skinny and young and _weak_ to be Merlin!"

Arthur rolled his eyes and turned to his manservant. "Would you please do something to prove yourself? I'm about to just throw him in the dungeons."

Merlin glanced at Arthur. The dungeons? But he was just a boy! He looked back at the boy, who was watching him with guarded eyes. After a quick glance around the room, Merlin decided to do something simple to prove himself. His eyes flashed gold for a moment and the ropes around the boy's hands severed.

"Not that!" Arthur shouted, but it was too late.

In a flash, the boy jumped up from the ground. He let out a shout, like Mordred had that day in the woods, and sent the guards flying backwards. Then he turned and ran for the guard farthest from Arthur on the right. Merlin's eyes flashed gold again and time slowed down around him.

He hurried to each guard, pulling them to the ground so they didn't hit anything and hurt themselves, and then grabbed the boy's arm as he released the spell and time sped up. The boy jolted to a stop and gasped, flipping to see who had him.

"What?" he let out, eyes wide.

Merlin frowned. "I'm sorry. Swebban."

With one more flash of gold, the boy's eyes rolled up into his head and he fell asleep. Merlin wrapped his arms around the boy as he went slack, slowly laying him on the ground.

"You really _are_ an idiot, aren't you, Merlin?!" Arthur shouted as his guards stood back up, shaking themselves off. "We've got him tied up and you think 'Why not let the possible threat go free?'"

Merlin frowned at him. "Nothing bad happened."

"But what if it _had_?"

"It didn't and that's what matters!" Merlin shouted back.

Neither man seemed to care that the guards were watching them, not sure how to react. The King and the Court Sorcerer were fighting. Who do you support? He's the king, but the other one is a powerful sorcerer.

"That is not what matters!" Arthur growled.

"Yes it is," Merlin insisted. "Do you know how many good things would _not_ have happened if I only acted when nothing bad could happen?"

Arthur shook his head with a deep, put upon sigh and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think I even want to know," he said, anger mostly gone from his voice. He rubbed his face with his hands. "But really, what if he had attacked or hurt you? That was too risky. Could you not just make a fireball in your hand or...or float off the ground, or do that thing where you move really fast?"

Merlin's cheeks colored. Yeah, he could have done all of those things, but he hadn't thought of them. Arthur sighed again at Merlin's reaction, and it came out too fond to be an admonishment. He motioned to the boy at Merlin's feet.

"So what should we do with our boy magician, oh Court Sorcerer?" Arthur asked.

The guards calmed. The fight was over as suddenly as it began and no one had gotten hurt. The dynamic between Arthur and Merlin still confused them, confused everyone in Camelot really. They often argued like bitter enemies, yet took each other's counsel to heart and trusted each other with their lives. It had always been that way. Merlin being the Court Sorcerer only meant that now he didn't have to hold it in until they were in private - or what the two men thought was private but many in the castle overheard regardless.

Merlin looked the boy over once, slowly. "What did he do?"

"He came calling for you, and when a guard asked him what he wanted, he attacked him," Arthur explained. "Not with magic, just with his hands. The guards put manacles on him, but he seems to have the ability to unlock them, with magic. The guards tried three kinds of restraints before settling on rope. It seems his magic has no effect on rope."

"There's no lock on rope," Merlin explained with a shrug. Arthur raised an eyebrow at him and Merlin's cheeks heated up. "I've needed to get through locks and restraints enough times in the past," he said vaguely.

Arthur shook his head with a small smile. "I'm not surprised." He decided not to ask for examples. He would worry less if he just didn't know. "What do you propose we do with him?" he asked again.

"I'll take him up to Gaius's chambers, hold him there until he wakes up. When he does, we'll see what he wanted from me. It's possible he was coming asking for help," Merlin said.

For a moment, Arthur looked like he wanted to argue, but then he decided against it. He motioned for the guards and then to the boy. "Help Merlin get him up the tower." They hesitated and Arthur shot them all a pointed look. "Now."

They picked the boy up with caution, probably worried he would wake up again and attack them, and then headed out of the room.

"Make sure to tie him up with rope when you get there; to a chair or something," Merlin called after them.

When the doors closed, Arthur and Merlin were left alone in the throne room. Merlin slowly turned his eyes to face his king. More and more lately, prolonged eye contact with Arthur made Merlin blush, yet he couldn't stop staring. It was no different this time either. They stared at each other for a long moment in silence and, when Merlin felt his cheeks begin to burn with a flush while his heart raced and Arthur was just starting to smile about it, Arthur shook his head and broke eye contact with a deep inhale.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Merlin?" he asked, looking at one of the high windows.

Merlin gave a half shrug as his heart rate calmed. "Honestly? I'm not sure." Arthur rolled his eyes and focused on Merlin once more. "But he might actually need help, and if that's true, then I need to help him. He's just a child. When I was his age I felled a tree with magic and hit one of the elders of my village." Arthur winced and Merlin smiled. "He doesn't know it was magic, but he's never forgiven me for hitting him. But the point is that it was an accident. A childish mistake because I took on a bet from Will."

Arthur's gaze grew somber at the mention of Will. Merlin and he had talked about Will since Merlin had revealed his magic to Arthur. Arthur knew Will had not possessed magic. He had simply been a good man, protecting his friend's secret so that he could follow his destiny. Arthur was grateful to him. He had no idea what he would've done had he learned of Merlin's magic so early on in their friendship, before Arthur could even admit he felt anything other than a master's care for Merlin.

"I suppose," he relented. "Just make sure he doesn't hurt anyone." Merlin nodded. "Actually, come to think of it," Arthur let out at a sudden thought, "How did Will find out you were a sorcerer?"

Merlin blushed. "When I felled that tree, he saw it."

Arthur actually laughed outright. "Of course. You cheated in your bet."

For the briefest moment, Merlin looked angry at Arthur for laughing at him. Then he simply frowned. "Will accepted my magic really fast. He saw me fell that tree and...and it was like he'd known all along. He was mad I hadn't told him before, but after that one moment, he was planning how we could use it to play tricks on the other kids or mean old Miss Herders. It made us better friends."

Arthur frowned too. "You're thinking about Gwaine." He didn't have to guess. He'd seen how the two were acting around one another. Surprisingly, he didn't feel good knowing they were on the outs.

Merlin nodded. "He's barely spoken to me in two weeks. I mean, he said he was okay with my magic, but..."

Arthur took a step, closing the gap between them, and clasped Merlin's left shoulder in a comfortingly tight grip. It was the best comfort he knew how to give sometimes. Luckily, Merlin knew how to interpret all of Arthur's attempts at consolation and appreciated each one. When Merlin met his eyes, he nodded. "He'll come around. You two are friends, and this won't come between you. He just needs time to adjust."

Merlin grinned. "You reacted better than he has," he said like he was joking, but he wasn't. "It took you five minutes to accept what I was, and only three days to stop jumping whenever I lit the fire."

Arthur removed his hand from Merlin's shoulder. "Yes, but I'd known you for five years. I like to think I wasn't completely oblivious to what was going on around me, that I knew, somehow, that you were different."

"I'd like to think that too," Merlin admitted. "I mean, if you were _that_ oblivious, you'd be a pretty lousy King. Oh wait."

He was rewarded with a punch on the arm just hard enough to send him stumbling, but he was still giggling softly when he regained his footing. And Arthur couldn't be mad when he did that.

...

...

When the boy finally awoke, Merlin was busy helping Gaius with a potion. He startled awake and noticed he was sitting upright. He was seated in a high backed wooden chair, a table in front of him and his arms tied behind the chair. Merlin realized he was awake when he started struggling to free his hands. He tapped Gaius on the shoulder before moving away from the work table and toward their guest.

"Afternoon," Merlin greeted.

The boy stopped struggling immediately, his eyes shooting up to Merlin's face. Merlin crossed his arms and the boy's expression became vaguely frightened, but hiding it. He quickly uncrossed his arms again but the boy really didn't relax at all.

"Who are you?" Merlin asked, trying his best to sound friendly. If this kid needed help, he needed to trust Merlin. Gaius came to stand to Merlin's right.

The boy shook his head. "I'm a farmer's son. I want to study magic. I have magic," he stated definitively.

Merlin blinked. Well. He took a deep breath. "No, I mean, what is your name?"

"Oh. Um...Luke," the boy revealed in a murmur, his eyes drifting away. A moment passed and then Luke looked back up and directly into Merlin's eyes. "You're really Merlin?"

There was such hope in Luke's eyes. Merlin nodded almost numbly, not sure how to deal with that look. No one had ever looked at him that way before: like he was the key to all the secrets of the world. Well, Arthur had graced him with it briefly at times, whenever Merlin was particularly wise, but it wasn't the same coming from Luke. Luke's gaze only grew more hopeful with Merlin's answer. Merlin cleared his throat, uncomfortable, and rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced at Gaius, hoping for guidance.

Gaius took a breath. "The King said you came calling for Merlin," he said, taking over. "What did you need from him?"

Luke's expression turned stony in an instant. "And who are you?"

Merlin frowned. "He's my mentor and he has magic too," he stated. This kid had an attitude problem.

Luke frowned, confused. " _You_ have a mentor?" he asked incredulously. "But you said you were Merlin!" he accused. "You're supposed to be this legendary warlock - the sorcerer that stands at the right hand of the king, who brought magic back to the land!"

"Everyone learns from someone," Merlin said, crossing his arms again. "I have a lot of power, that's true, but someone had to teach me how to use it. Gaius helped teach me to control my powers."

Gaius's eyes widened a bit. "Do you want Merlin to teach you magic?" he asked, sounding enlightened.

Luke's own eyes widened momentarily before he looked away from them again. After what seemed to be an internal battle, he gave a sad looking nod. "Yeah."

Gaius and Merlin shared a long look.

...

...

They were in. No one suspected a thing. Soon, King Arthur would be within their grasp. Then he would be gone, and the true heir to Albion could take their place upon the throne of Camelot.

...

...

Merlin wasn't sure what to think of Luke.

The early morning light was shining through his bedroom window. It lit Luke's face with soft light, making him look younger than he already was. Merlin stood in the doorway, watching silently, while he slept. Luke was so young, only fourteen. Why had he left home? What about his family? Why did he want to learn magic? Merlin wasn't sure what to think of this strange boy. What if he taught Luke magic and Luke turned out to be like Edwin or Morgause?

"Luke," he called into the room.

The straw haired boy jumped awake as if shoved. "What?" he asked, no trace of sleep in his voice.

"Come on. It's already late morning. We need to get going," Merlin said, moving to grab his satchel from where it rested under his cupboard.

"Go where?" Luke asked, sounding excited for the first time since Merlin met him, as he jumped out of the bed.

Well, it was a makeshift mattress made of extra pillows and cloths from around Gaius's chambers. Gaius hadn't minded and they both felt safer with Luke close to Merlin last night. If Merlin took him on as an apprentice, he would need an actual bed.

"Shopping."

Luke paused in pulling his tunic over his head and peeked out through the top with a raised eyebrow. "Come again?"

Merlin smiled. He may not know much about Luke, but the kid could still be adorable. "In light of recent developments, his great highness has granted me a temporary leave of service to attend to other matters," he said, attempting to sound like he was some visiting lord. Luke blinked blankly at him and Merlin smiled wider, knowing he'd succeeded. "Arthur gave me the day off to decide what to do about you."

"Oh."

Merlin waved for Luke to follow him out and then started walking. "So I'm going to use today to be solely the Court Sorcerer. I need to pick up some supplies first and then we'll see if anyone in town needs help. You can maybe show me some of your magic while we're out."

Luke brightened considerably at that and bounded after him. It was strange. Merlin had known Luke less than a day, yet it already felt like he'd somehow gained a little brother.

...

...

"Just set this under your pillow tonight when you go to sleep. You'll feel better by morning. I promise," Merlin instructed.

The middle-aged woman before him accepted the poultice with a half smile, her eyes tired. "Thank you, Court Sorcerer."

Merlin shrugged his satchel back over his shoulder. He wondered if he would ever get used to his new title. He nodded at the woman with a kind smile and she vanished back inside her house.

"So, that ball cures all illnesses?" Luke asked curiously from behind him.

Merlin shook his head and he faced the boy. "No. A poultice can heal a lot of illness, but not all of them. She just has a head cold though, so it'll do the trick. Usually people go to Gaius for sickness, but I help out with a little magic if I'm in town and they ask."

As Merlin moved through the village, people waved and greeted him. It wasn't _entirely_ different from before he was a member of the court, but it was different enough that Merlin was aware of it. Luke trailed after him, head turning this way and that. It reminded Merlin of himself when he first arrived in Camelot almost six years ago.

Unfortunately, Luke was walking backwards as he looked around and ended up bumping into someone. Luke, being smaller, ended up on the ground, while the other man barely stumbled. The other guy was taller than Merlin, with black hair and muscles. He looked like a blacksmith.

"Hey, watch where you're going," the guy growled out.

Luke glared and jumped up from the dirt. " _You_ watch it," he shot back.

Merlin stopped and looked back, eyes a little wide. What was Luke doing?

"Show some respect, child. I could squash you like a bug," the blacksmith warned, eyes narrowed.

Luke didn't heed it. "Try me, ogre."

There was no warning when the guy lunged at Luke. Before Merlin could react, the guy had Luke by the throat. Luke kicked the guy in the chest. The blow was strong enough to make the man drop him and take a step back. As soon as he was on his feet, Luke tackled the blacksmith around the middle, causing him to stumble and fall. The blacksmith immediately grabbed Luke's hair as Luke swung at his face and used his hold to toss Luke away. Luke gave a cry of pain. Both combatants clamored to their feet, looking angry and a bit unstable. Then Merlin was between them with his hands raised.

"Stop it!" he shouted. Some people were watching the altercation before and more looked up now that Merlin was involved.

Luke faltered and fell back onto his butt. The blacksmith regarded Merlin curiously. Merlin addressed the blacksmith first.

"I apologize greatly for his actions. He is just a boy and doesn't know better. Please forgive him." He looked the man straight in the eyes as he spoke, showing that while he was sorry, this man was not better than him.

The blacksmith stared at Merlin for a long while. Then he frowned. "He was too weak to actually hurt me, so I suppose no harm is done, but if he trifles with me again, I won't hesitate to punish him."

Merlin let out a relieved breath. "Thank you very much." He turned and grabbed Luke by the forearm, hauling him to his feet. "Come with me."

Luke looked properly terrified of Merlin's tone. For the first time, Merlin thought he understood why Gaius had been so hard on him when he'd first arrived in Camelot, so hot headed and flippant with the law. He half dragged Luke all the way back to Gaius's chambers where, thankfully, they were alone. Releasing Luke's arm, Merlin shut the door behind them.

"I hope I wasn't such an idiot when I was fourteen," Merlin stated in a hard tone.

"He started it!" Luke argued.

"I don't care!" Merlin shouted back. Luke flinched. "Magic is still a touchy subject among the people of Camelot. If you want to learn magic here, the people have to trust you. They can't trust you if you go around picking fights and getting into trouble. And if you can't control yourself, I can't teach you."

Luke's face crumpled. "No. No you _have_ to teach me. I need to know."

The desperation in his voice erased all anger Merlin still held. When he didn't immediately respond, Luke ran his hands over his face and through his hair roughly before turning and collapsing onto the bench at the dining table. Merlin waited a moment before moving to stand next to him.

"What do you need to know?" he asked quietly.

Luke's face was hidden in his hands, so his voice came out a bit muffled, but Merlin understood him all the same. "My father told me never to use magic. When I learned I could lock or unlock any lock, he got so angry. He told me magic was evil...and this proved my soul was black." There were tears in his voice. "I believed him. Then the bandits came and burned our house down, and I was so scared. I used magic on them. Not the locking magic, but the magic that throws people. I killed them," he whispered.

Merlin couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. Luke lowered his hands and the grief on his face nearly broke Merlin's heart. The tears in his voice now also escaped his eyes.

"I swear I didn't mean to. They fell-They fell-I didn't-," he sobbed out half sentences, crying harder as he looked at Merlin's face. "I didn't have anywhere else to go. And I heard about you, and about how great you were, how _good_ , and...and I just needed to know." He took a shaking breath. "If I learned magic from you...then I know...I could be...I really could be good."

...

...

"You're going to what?" Arthur asked, looking up from the documents spread across his desk.

Merlin was turning down the bed for the night. Arthur had had another servant up here doing Merlin's chores tonight, but Merlin had walked in and insisted on doing it himself. Now Arthur knew it was because Merlin wanted to speak with him privately.

Merlin looked at the fireplace and held out his right hand. The ash lifted from the ground and collected in the bucket that had previously been used to bring Arthur's bath water up. Only once the ash was in the bucket did Merlin respond.

"I'm going to train him in magic," he repeated simply. "Once he gets settled in and all."

Arthur watched as Merlin's eyes flashed gold and a fire erupted in the now cleaned fireplace. Maybe it wasn't a _terrible_ idea. Merlin seemed to know more and have better control every time Arthur saw him use magic. Maybe he really could teach someone else how to use it.

Merlin picked up Arthur's laundry manually and moved to set it in the basket the last servant had left for them. He only made it two steps before he stepped on a dangling sleeve and tripped, throwing Arthur's clothes all over the floor again. Arthur let out a heavy sigh.

Then again...

"Come sit down," Arthur said as Merlin scrambled to gather the clothes again. When his ex-servant glanced up at him, Arthur waved at the chair across the table. Merlin didn't hesitate to sit with him. Arthur placed his hands palm up on the table and waited until Merlin had taken hold of them before letting a tiny smile lift his lips. "That's better."

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Dollop," he said, his tone too fond to take the insult seriously.

With a cavalier shrug and eye roll, Arthur gave Merlin's hands a quick squeeze before getting back to business. "Why can't Gaius teach him magic? He taught _you_ , didn't he?"

"Yes," Merlin said with a short sigh. "But I also learned from a dragon, my father, Morgana, and about six different magic books." With a flash of his eyes, and without removing his hands from Arthur's, all the spilled clothing gathered itself into the basket again. "I'm not saying I'm an expert-" Arthur snorted and Merlin frowned at him, "but Luke really wants _me_ to teach him. He needs me to."

Arthur lifted an eyebrow at Merlin. His manservant was keeping secrets, it seemed, though it didn't feel like a big one. It still made him feel a bit uneasy. He gave Merlin's hands one last squeeze before releasing them and standing up with a languid stretch. "So where is your apprentice now, then?"

The bedroom door swung open on its own as Merlin also stood, gathering the clothes basket into his arms. Merlin shrugged. "I told him to help Gaius make potions. He's working like his life depends on it," he murmured, eyes troubled.

Arthur pushed away any concern for this boy. They didn't actually know anything about him, yet Merlin cared about him and Arthur wanted to trust Merlin's judgment. Merlin, however, had a bleeding heart and could easily be duped with the appropriate sob story.

"Just make sure he doesn't break the castle," Arthur relented with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Merlin gave a bright smile, which made Arthur's submission completely worth it, before he headed to do Arthur's laundry. And come to think of it, why had Merlin not learned enough magic to clean his laundry by now?

...

...

The window was high up in the wall. From here, they could see the courtyard of the castle and watch people going about with their daily lives. From here, they watched as Merlin carried a load of laundry to be cleaned.

Looking down at the vile in their hand, the figure smiled darkly. Tomorrow would be the day when Arthur Pendragon breathed his last.

...

...

"So...why are we on the training field again?" Luke asked, shading his eyes from the sun and looking out onto the field.

Arthur was out there putting his knights through their paces. It was obvious that some of them were more trained than others, but all of them were keeping up, even the smallest -Luned. As Luke watched, Arthur ended that set of training and started pairing knights up for more combat based practice.

Merlin was seated on a bench next to all the weapons. "Because I'm still Arthur's manservant, even if I'm also Court Sorcerer."

The younger male shook his head. "I don't understand that," he said in confusion. "You're the most powerful sorcerer alive." Merlin let out a soft scoff that Luke ignored. "How could you lower yourself to being a _servant_?"

"Well..." Merlin leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and let out a breath. "I was made Arthur's servant right when I first arrived in Camelot, before I knew I was supposed to be some powerful magical force. And I hated every minute of it," he said with a laugh. "But...Arthur's a good master. And he's a good man."

Luke looked from Merlin to Arthur and watched the king on the field. Even with all his new duties as king, he was still the one doing the bulk of the knights' training. There was a sheen of sweat on Arthur's visible skin, which meant he was definitely sweating under all his mail and armor. He would need a bath later. From the look on Luke's face, Merlin guessed it wasn't the picture of a king he'd been expecting.

"He's arrogant," Luke snipped, barely loud enough for Merlin to hear it.

"I was also arrogant," Merlin continued, drawing Luke's attention back to himself. "All I could do was move things and slow down time, but I thought I had all the answers. Being Arthur's servant, I was able to use my gifts for good. I also got to see a side to Arthur that no one else did; a side of him that worried about his people and whether he would be a good king, who questioned certain actions taken by his father and who was fiercely loyal to those who were loyal to him." He smiled up at the younger man. "I wouldn't change these past years for anything. Not one day."

He hadn't told Luke yet that he would train him. It was sort of like Arthur testing Lancelot before letting him try out as a knight. Merlin wanted to see how Luke was around Arthur and Camelot before he officially took him on as an apprentice. And wasn't that a terrifying thought: an apprentice. If Luke turned out to be a threat to Camelot, Merlin would be the one to blame.

Arthur waved in Merlin's general direction and Merlin jumped up from his seat. He poured water from a waiting jug into a cup, then turned to Luke.

"Could you go hand this to Arthur? He needs a drink."

Luke's expression bordered on mutinous for a moment before he schooled his face and accepted the cup. He marched out onto the field, between dueling knights, as if getting Arthur his water were a matter of life and death. The sight made Merlin grin.

Unfortunately, Arthur threw his arm out, sword in hand, while shouting to one of the knights. The blade missed Luke but caught the cup dead on, knocking it from his hands. Caught unaware, Arthur also dropped Excalibur in the grass at Luke's feet. As Arthur turned to see who or what he'd hit, Luke dropped to the ground, reaching for the cup. His hand hesitated over Excalibur and then he grabbed the sword instead of the cup and stood back up.

Merlin was instantly tense. Luke held the sword up, looking from it to Arthur and back, for what felt like eternity. Arthur glanced past the teen to Merlin. Whatever he saw from Merlin had his eyes narrowing and he focused back on Luke. Merlin wished he could hear what Arthur was saying, but he was too far away. Then Arthur held out his hand for the sword. Again, like when he accepted the water, Luke hesitated. Merlin felt his magic rise to the surface, ready to act.

Then Excalibur was back in Arthur's hands and Luke was bending down to grab the cup he'd dropped. As the boy hurried back over to the bench, Merlin's magic calmed. Arthur locked eyes with him and gave a nod before turning back to his men. No one had even glanced at their king the entire time.

"Need more water," Luke was saying as he stopped next to Merlin. "Seems the king's wingspan is a bit wider than his eyes."

There was a hesitant glint in Luke's eyes and Merlin smiled at the joke, erasing the nerves from the teen's expression. Luke grabbed the water jug and refilled the cup before marching back over to Arthur and handing it off.

...

...

Arthur had dinner that evening with Morgana and Merlin in the small dining hall. He used to eat here with his father and Morgana and maybe a visiting noble, if it wasn't a special occasion. Evening light was filtering in through the high windows, but it wasn't truly enough to see by, so there were candles scattered around the room. With a wave of hands, Morgana and Merlin had every candle lit with a perfect tiny flame.

Having sorcerers around was more convenient than Arthur had ever thought it'd be.

"So I hear that we have a surprise guest," Morgana commented teasingly. "A fan of Merlin's, if rumors are to be believed."

Merlin gagged slightly on his soup. He looked awkward in his nice clothes, eating at this formal dining table. Arthur was so used to him serving instead of being served in this room. Usually it was just the two of them in Arthur's room at dinner so this sight was still new to Arthur. He preferred the private meals they shared. In the past they had shared Arthur's large dinner portions, but these days Merlin was given his own meal to enjoy with Arthur. It was nice, though Arthur hadn't minded sharing.

"That's right," Arthur answered, pulling himself from his thoughts. "He follows Merlin around like a duckling and he's barely arrived."

Morgana looked like she was barely holding back a laugh. "Oh now I have to see this sometime. Where is your duckling?"

The blush was high on Merlin's cheeks. "His name is Luke and he's with Gaius," he said. "I'm going to start him as my apprentice tomorrow."

All laughter fell from Morgana's face. "Apprentice?" Merlin nodded. "As in, magic?" Another nod. Morgana let out a heavy breath. "Times are changing quickly, aren't they?" she said quietly.

It wasn't a question that wanted an answer, so they fell into silence again. When Merlin had finished his soup, he pushed his bowl away and rested his hands nervously on the table. Then he cleared his throat, gaining the full attention of the two other people in the room.

"Actually, Morgana," the ex-servant began, "I was wondering." He scratched his cheek briefly, eyes wandering. "Would you help out? With the training?"

There was a soft clatter as Morgana dropped her spoon back into her nearly empty bowl. By her shocked expression, she'd never expected such a request. Merlin plowed ahead.

"I'm a very powerful sorcerer, true, but I don't know everything. You've got a lot of experience with magic as well, of a different kind than I use," he explained. "I don't mean that I want you to do a lot of work with him, just...If I don't know the answer, I'd like to know that you would be willing to help me."

Morgana's eyes were overly bright and she blinked several times to clear them. Arthur and Merlin pretended not to notice.

It had been a long time since Arthur won Morgana's allegiance back from Morgause, but he had always known she wasn't completely comfortable around him. Even after Uther died and Arthur became king, after he lifted the ban on magic, she had been more reserved around him than she used to be. To her, this must be the final piece of a puzzle slipping into place; the proof that she really was at home here.

"I would be honored," Morgana said at length, nodding her head and smiling brightly at Merlin. Arthur had not seen a smile so free on his sister's face since before she met Morgause.

The side door opened and a dozen kitchen maids bustled in. Three of them collected the soup dishes and hurried back out, while the rest were bringing out pitchers of wine and plates piled with meats and vegetables.

Merlin's expression when his plate was set before him was almost comical. He still ate with Gaius more often than not, and was not used to having so much food just for himself, even when eating with Arthur. But tonight he was formally dining with the king, so his stomach would be over full.

The young woman who poured Arthur's drink was new, Arthur noted. So was the girl servicing Morgana. Merlin had the pleasure of one of the older servants, still young but with a lot of castle experience, serving him. This was probably because new servants would be tripping over themselves to please the king and a born and raised Lady of the Court, while Merlin was a servant with a title and the other servants would know him better from working with him.

Speaking of which, Merlin was now Lord Merlin, Court Sorcerer of Camelot, yet he was still working in the castle as a servant. Arthur frowned as he picked up his wine goblet, freshly full thanks to the kitchen maid serving him. He would need to do something about Merlin's conflicting jobs. He didn't want to lose Merlin as a manservant, regardless of what a terrible job he did half the time, but he didn't want visiting nobles to look down on the Court Sorcerer because he also scrubbed floors.

From the corner of his eye, Arthur caught sight of an increasingly familiar figure standing in the shadows of the room and watching them. It was Luke. He must have come in with the kitchen maids. That was another thing to consider when thinking about Merlin's jobs, Arthur mused. He now had an apprentice.

Merlin and Morgana both froze in their seats at the same time and Arthur paused with his goblet just before his lips, raising an eyebrow at them.

"Arthur," Merlin started, a bit franticly, at the same time Morgana half-shouted, "Don't drink that!"

He quickly pulled the wine away from his mouth and glanced at it. The color was dark and rich and nothing looked or smelled off about it. But if both of his magical consuls were panicking, then he could be certain something magical was wrong with it.

"What is it?" he asked, eyes narrowed. "Poison?"

Merlin nodded as Morgana gave a helpless shrug. "I just feels off," she said. "It's powerful though. I've never been able to sense a poison before."

Arthur waved over the kitchen maid who had served him and she scurried to his side. "Where did this wine come from?"

"The kitchens, sire, the same as all the wine," she told him in a meek voice, her eyes trained on Arthur's face.

"Did anyone come into contact with it before you poured my glass?" Arthur asked, voice strong and serious.

The kitchen maid glanced around the room briefly, her eyes passing over Merlin, Morgana, the two other maids still in the room, and Luke, then flicked back to Arthur. She shook her head. "Just me, sire."

In a flash, her eyes hardened and she had pulled a knife from the folds of her dress. Arthur made to push back from the table and stand just as she slashed out at him. Morgana gasped, Merlin's eyes flashed golden. Her knife jerked sideways, flying from her hand to land on the floor far away, but not in time to stop the slice across Arthur's left arm. Almost at the exact same instant, the woman was jerked backwards away from Arthur, landing in a heap six feet away from the table.

Merlin immediately turned to Luke, who had his hands out in front of him like he was trying to catch a falling object but knew he wouldn't make it, a wild look in his eyes. Morgana was already at Arthur's side and shouting for someone to fetch Gaius. The other maids scurried from the room, one through the servant's exit and one through the main doors to fetch Gaius.

"Are you alright?" Merlin asked, kneeling next to the king as Morgana grabbed an unused table cloth and used it to put pressure on the wound.

Arthur nodded, though he winced at the pressure on his wound. "It's nothing terrible," he insisted, though Morgana let out a huff. "If Morgana doesn't cut off the blood to my entire arm with that cloth, I'll be fine."

"Only you would minimize an attempt on your life," Morgana chastised. "You'll lose a lot of blood if we don't put pressure on the wound, and neither Merlin nor I are very good at healing spells."

"That seems like a rather big flaw in your skills," Arthur quipped shortly.

Merlin shook his head at them and, knowing Arthur would be okay, moved around the table toward the kitchen maid responsible. With a dark look down at her, he made a sort of figure eight motion with his hand and said, "Line cysban." Ropes bound the dazed woman's arms tightly to her torso and ensured that she would not be escaping anytime soon.

Of course that was when the guards rushed in, several minutes too late. Merlin let them take care of the woman – not trusting himself to be near her any longer anyway – and instead moved to stand by Luke, who was now staring at his hands in apparent shock.

Merlin stood in front of the boy and placed his hands on his hips. "What were you doing in here, Luke?" The anger at someone for attacking Arthur remained a bit in his tone, making Luke tense up. Merlin wasn't actually upset, but it was something he was curious about and maybe a bit of fear would make Luke more honest.

"I just," Luke fumbled, looking to where the woman was being hefted to her feet. "I wanted to see you, and you haven't been around since the training field and I thought I'd done something to upset you and I really really want you to teach me magic and I just thought-"

"You are not the leader of Albion!" the woman shouted, cutting Luke off and earning her a glare from Merlin. "You are Uther Pendragon's son, and you always will be." She had everyone's attention, even as the guards were dragging her out of the room. "You can pass whatever laws you want, but that won't change! The Lady Morgana should be Queen of Albion! She _will_ be queen!"

Then the doors shut, muffling her continued shouts. Morgana looked between Merlin and Arthur swiftly and shook her head. "Arthur, I swear to you, I had nothing to do with this attack."

Arthur shook his head. "It would have been a very badly thought out plan, if you were," he said. "Given your past attempts on my life, I would have been insulted if this was your next move."

A relieved smile quirked Morgana's lips and her eyes softened. "Yes, well, you can always expect better from me."

Gaius strode into the room then and let out a soft gasp at the sight of the bloody cloth on Arthur's arm. He shook his head and shot Merlin a withering look.

"You'd better come up to my chambers, then," he said to the king. "I'll need to clean and close that wound before we bandage it."

Morgana and Arthur, and the guards, all left with Gaius, leaving Merlin and Luke alone in the dining hall. Though Arthur threw a glance at Merlin before he was through the door, and Merlin motioned that he would follow shortly. He just had one thing to take care of first.

After the doors were shut, Merlin shook off his irritation at the attack as best he could, then gave a small smile and pat Luke's arm. "You did well. You helped save Arthur's life tonight," he assured the younger man. Luke got that look of hope in his eyes again, only now Merlin understood what it meant. Now was as good a time as any to give him the great news. "But if you want to help out anymore, you'll need to practice some useful spells first, so you don't cause more harm than good. And to do that, you'll need a teacher."

Luke's mouth dropped open, his eyes widened. "Y-you mean...You'll-"

Merlin nodded. "I've decided to take you on as my apprentice."

He wasn't prepared for the hug he got in return for that announcement but Luke wrapped him up as tight as he could manage. Merlin's smile turned soft and he hugged Luke back. He could tell: Luke was going to be a force for good. He didn't need to ask the dragon or Morgana or Tethella. He just knew.

...

...

"I should be used to assassination attempts by now," Arthur griped. "But what is wrong with the guards that these lunatics keep getting close enough to try?"

Gaius made a 'hmm' noise of agreement and nodded before picking up some bandages and beginning to cover the wound on Arthur's arm.

"I have no doubt that Morgause is somehow behind this. She wants Morgana on the throne of Camelot, she always has. This was probably a ploy to make me doubt Morgana's loyalty, and to earn Morgana's loyalty for herself in return."

"That seems likely, sire," Gaius commented, still wrapping the wound.

Arthur stared at the wood of the floor for a few long, quiet moments. Then he took a deep breath and said, "Do you think it's a good thing, Merlin training that kid?"

Gaius didn't even glance up from his work. "Maybe not," he admitted, and Arthur's head snapped to him with wide eyes. "Merlin was a clumsy magician when he first started learning. Luke is even more so. It's quite possible that training Luke could injure both of them, or result in some sort of explosion."

Arthur let out a groan and dropped his head into his right hand, propped up on his knee. Gaius made a face when the motion made Arthur's left arm move too and shifted the bandages. He realigned them with the wound and continued his work.

"However," he said, and Arthur turned his head just enough to peak out through his fingers at the elderly man. "Merlin has always worried about his powers being used for evil. You are not the only person who has had trouble finding a good sorcerer," he noted, tying off the bandage.

Gaius collected his medical supplies and moved to put them away as he spoke. Arthur rolled his left shoulder and felt no pain from the cut on his arm.

"Luke wants to be an honest man; an honest sorcerer. Merlin is happy just to find someone like that. And if he is passing along his knowledge to a younger generation, so that his good magic spreads, then I have no qualms with it."

Arthur glanced toward Merlin's closed bedroom door. Well, now it was Merlin and Luke's bedroom, wasn't it? He supposed, if he looked at the situation from Gaius's point of view, then yes, it was a good one. He just hoped Luke didn't betray Merlin's trust. Camelot had been burned too many times in the past and they didn't need any more wounds. _Merlin_ didn't need any more.

"Thank you, Gaius," he said, standing up and pulling his jacket on. "I need to see this would-be assassin and find out if she has any information on Morgause or her whereabouts. Then I have to pass judgment on her for trying to take my life," he said grimly.

Gaius nodded. "Of course, sire. Send for me if you need anything."

Arthur nodded and walked purposefully out of the room.

...

...

It was strange, standing in the field where Arthur liked to beat him with a sword, prepared to train someone in the art of magic. Luke stood opposite Merlin in the field, ten feet between them. Across Merlin's shoulders was his satchel, but there were no herbs in it today.

"Ok," Merlin started. "I agreed to teach you magic, but I can only do that if you agree to two conditions."

Luke nodded, hands clenching at his sides. "Anything."

"First: you have to use your magic for good. If I think you're going to use it for evil, I will stop teaching you. Immediately," Merlin stated seriously. Luke nodded again. "I don't know everything. Gaius is probably the best teacher when it comes to potions. Morgana knows some spells as well, though hers relate more to the art of illusion or prophesy, and unless you're a seer, those won't do you much good. You can still ask her for help though, remember that."

"Potions, Gaius. Illusions and visions, Morgana. Got it," Luke repeated. "What's the second condition?"

Merlin gave a tiny smile. "Magic is partly about how much power you have and partly how much training you've had. But it is mostly about intuition and feelings. Always follow your heart."

Luke smiled too. "Yes, sir."

Merlin's smile grew. "You are going to make mistakes. You aren't going to be perfect right away. You're probably going to get frustrated before you get any spell right. Learning magic is hard and takes years to master, but it is all worth it. Are you ready?"

"Always," Luke said, a glint in his dark eyes.

Merlin opened his satchel and pulled out an apple. "We're going to start with levitation. You can pick any lock, you said?" A nod. "Well, that involves moving parts of the lock to your will. Moving objects uses this same idea."

His eyes flashed gold and the apple lifted from his hand. With a nod of his head, the apple flew over to Luke, who caught it with wide eyes.

"Cool," he breathed out.

Merlin smiled again. "Hold the apple out in front of you." Luke did as directed. "Now, say the spell. Ábregdan."

Luke stared at the apple intently. He opened his mouth. "Ábregdan."

...

...

 **Next Time:** **Phoenix Tears, Part One**

_Word spreads of a once in a millennium find: a phoenix egg. Legend says that one who has the loyalty of a phoenix will live forever. Now it's a race for Camelot's finest to find the egg before Morgause does, or face an enemy who cannot die._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Ábregdan = raise/lift up
> 
> Line cysban = rope bind
> 
> Swebban = sleep


	10. Phoenix Tears, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word spreads of a once in a millennium find: a phoenix egg. Legend says that one who has the loyalty of a phoenix will live forever. Now it's a race for Camelot's finest to find the egg before Morgause does, or face an enemy who cannot die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first chapters I wrote for The Once and Future King - well, this and the one after it. I broke it into two later in the writing process and added extra scenes and events in the scenes already present, but the basics were hashed out really early on. These two together are some of my favorites. Enjoy!

"Yes," Morgause breathed out. "With this I shall never fear death."

She walked slowly, as if she had all the time in the world, but her face was pained. Her blonde hair cascaded down her back and over her shoulders beautifully, but it was also marred with dirt. Before her in the great room was a pedestal. On the pedestal sat a nest, within which was the most marvelous egg. It was a deep red, flickering like fire, with ripples of gold seemingly dripped onto the surface of the shell. The flickering red seemed to pulse like a heart beat the closer Morgause got to the egg.

"I have changed my fate and now _Emrys_ will fall to me instead." She reached out to the egg, her hand hovering just above its smooth surface. "Not even his great magic can stop me now. Albion will be mine."

There was the sound of clanging swords, of stone cracking through the ceiling. Someone shouted in pain, another yelled in panic.

"Morgause!" Morgause flipped around, glaring at her dark haired opponent.

A familiar blonde man stood at the door, glinting sword in hand, men in red at his back.

There was a body on the ground, clutching the egg to his chest as a mother would shield her child in death. The shell was cracked. He was dead. He was gone.

She stood her ground. "You. You are Emrys."

"No!" Arthur shouted, his voice desperate.

Magic burst forth like lava from a vicious volcano, engulfing the room and everyone in it, and his small, still body went up in flames.

Morgana's eyes snapped open with a gasped "No" escaping her lips. It took her several moments to realize she was safe in her own rooms, but her heart did not calm with the knowledge. She sat up, slowly, shakily. Her hands were trembling terribly and she ran them through her hair once before hugging herself tightly and shutting her eyes.

The sight of the dead body from her dreams flashed behind her eyelids and she quickly opened them again with a shuddering breath.

"Not now. Not now," she muttered in a rush. "It's too soon. Far too soon. He can't..." She felt tears prick at her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath.

What could she do? She had to do something. Everything she had foreseen in the past had always come true. There was no exception. Sometimes she misinterpreted what she had seen, but what she dreamt always came to pass. She knew this. Still, she could not accept it. Not this time. But how can you change fate?

Morgana shut her eyes, blocking out her empty room, only to jerk them back open when her mind conjured up visions of flames instead.

There would be no more sleep for her tonight.

...

...

Arthur watched with a lazy gaze as Merlin bustled around his room. His manservant, now Court Sorcerer as well, seemed tired. It wasn't just tired though, it was utter exhaustion. Merlin wasn't performing his duties with any less, or any more, precision than normal, but he looked completely wiped out; one motion from passing out or crying. The sight made something in Arthur's stomach clench painfully and he was overcome by a foreign desire to wrap Merlin up in his own king's bed and then lock the door and order him to sleep.

Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his comfy chair. "Merlin," he began in a rather stilted manner. He tried to not grimace. He'd been going for an easy tone, but his concern was showing. He always had issues being kingly in moments like this, moments involving Merlin at all really.

Merlin didn't even pause in making Arthur's bed. "Yes, sire?"

That just made the twisting in Arthur's stomach worse. Sire? How long had it been since Merlin had called him that in private? It felt like a lifetime ago. That settled it. "I...need you...to find me a new manservant."

The rustling of the covers stopped abruptly. For a moment, Merlin just stared down at the red fabric under his hands. Then he slowly lifted his head, a confused and yet vaguely pained look on his face.

"Why?" he asked, and Arthur was upset to learn that Merlin was better at masking his voice than the King was.

The blond frowned and leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees. "Because you're you," he stated simply, and then elaborated when Merlin looked afflicted. "You are my manservant, you are my Court Sorcerer, you are Gaius's apprentice, you have an apprentice of your own, and you are my counsel. Back when you only had two jobs you were barely managing not to fall on your face, and now you're workload has more than doubled. It isn't fair to ask so much of you, and I worry about your health."

"To be perfectly honest," Merlin interrupted with an easy smile, his pained expression completely gone, "I was counseling you before you even thought I had a brain, so I'm not sure that counts." He shrugged. "I just have _official_ obligations now instead of personal ones."

Personal obligations. There were many personal obligations Arthur wished Merlin had but never mentioned. It had been weeks since the festival, since they shared custard and sugared nuts and sat close enough to feel one another's warmth and Merlin had kissed his cheek, but Arthur still thought about it often. As long as Arthur had known Merlin, he had found his mind drifting to thoughts of his servant whenever he had nothing to do or when he was bored.

Yet more and more lately, Arthur's thoughts were not simply about Merlin's lack of decorum, clumsy nature, or how he could be wise at the best times. Now he found himself lost in visions of the curl of hair at the nape of Merlin's neck, how blue his eyes were, how his fine clothes fit him perfectly. It was like the birth of Spring had woken up some part of Arthur that took _notice_ of the peasant lord in ways that were distracting and highly inappropriate. But, he thought, at least Merlin sometimes seemed to suffer the same way Arthur did, so he wasn't alone.

Arthur sighed those thoughts away and leaned back in his chair again. "You know what I mean, so stop acting the fool," he said seriously. Merlin's smile slipped away and Arthur frowned as well. "You look about to fall down where you stand. You're exhausted."

Merlin's face gave a twitch that Arthur couldn't read. What had that emotion been? "I-"

"No," Arthur interrupted.

He stood from his chair and walked to the bed, around the chest at the end to stand near Merlin. He placed his left hand on the bed post at the foot of his bed and stared Merlin in the eyes.

"Besides all of your official duties, you are my dearest friend and closest companion," Arthur confided, his voice a tad quieter now. His voice was back to its normal pitch with the next sentence and a tint of red colored his cheeks. "I want you to be able to focus on your duties, yes, but I also worry for your health from a personal standpoint. I won't have you working yourself into an early grave. So I want you to find me a new manservant. Your choice. Albion knows I'll never have another servant like you, but if you're the one to pick him, then I think perhaps I can stomach the git."

Merlin smiled at this show of trust and Arthur cleared his throat, embarrassed at how emotional he'd almost become. Luckily, Merlin went back to making the bed a moment later, so Arthur didn't have to be the one to avert his gaze first. He really did enjoy the depth of Merlin's eyes.

"What about Luke?"

"What?" Arthur blinked, coming back to himself. "Luke?" Merlin's apprentice, Luke?

Merlin nodded and moved to the head of the bed. "Sure. I've got him running errands for Gaius when I can't and doing odd jobs for people in town otherwise right now. If he was your manservant, then both of our problems would be solved."

Arthur frowned. "Both of our problems?"

Merlin cast Arthur a playful smirk. "He'd have a steady job to do when I can't train him," he said of his own problem, "and you could stop worrying he's going to burn down the city."

Arthur almost took a step backwards, the statement hitting him hard in the chest. Instead he scoffed. "I'm not worried he'll-" Merlin lifted an eyebrow and Arthur stopped. He put his hands on his hips. "Ok, so maybe I am a bit worried about that. You can't blame me though. Half of your 'training sessions' end up with scorch marks in the training field and you with some new wound Gaius has to heal. He's not half the sorcerer you are, in power or in control. For all I know, he'll try making my bed with magic and turn the curtains into toads." Arthur stopped his rant and sighed, lowering his arms. "But...fine."

"So you're saying he can do it?" Merlin asked, his smile in his voice.

Arthur waved a dismissive hand and walked over to his table. He had said Merlin could pick and if Merlin though Luke was up to the task, then Arthur would at least give him a chance. "But he'll do his work manually, no spells," he added. "I won't have him practicing magic on my good tunics."

Merlin opened his mouth to respond but there was a knock at the door and they both stopped.

"Sire! Sir Tor and Sir Lionel have returned!" a nondescript man called from outside the door.

Arthur glanced at Merlin, who nodded. "I will be there shortly."

...

...

They were all gathered in a small meeting chamber, the same one where Merlin shouted that he was a sorcerer right after Arthur first met him. It seemed strange to Arthur, all these years later, that Merlin had told him the truth so early on and Arthur hadn't believed him. And yet he hardly believed it now.

Arthur shook his head as he took his place at the head of the table and looked around at those gathered. Morgana sat to his left, Merlin to his right. They both looked equally sleep deprived, which was worrisome. Guinevere was to Morgana's left, Luke to Merlin's right. Gaius was next to Luke. Lancelot, Gwaine, Leon, and Percival were seated here as well. Sir Tor and Sir Lionel stood at the end of the table, looking like photo negatives of each other with grim faces and stiff postures, facing all those gathered.

"What did you find?" Arthur asked. Everyone looked from Arthur to the two standing knights.

Sir Tor shook his head. "We heard word that the witch Morgause was near the border of Caerleon, so we rushed to check. We found no sign of her, but several peasants claimed to have seen a woman matching her description. They said she was asking for directions."

"Directions to what?" Arthur asked, glancing at Morgana briefly. She was watching the knights and didn't notice, but Arthur could tell she was tense.

Sir Lionel shook his head. "An old castle," he stated, his deep voice almost startling after Tor's soft tenor. "They said she was looking for a temple no one had seen in hundreds of years. They told us it was the Temple of the Sun."

Gaius turned to look at Arthur. "If she is looking for the Temple of the Sun," he began, gaining everyone's attention, "then we must hope she does not find it, for all our sakes."

"What is the Temple of the Sun?" Arthur asked.

"It is a temple created by ancient magic. At its height it housed the eggs of dragons, naga, cockatrices, and other magical creatures. Supposedly, the sun shown down on the temple perfectly to incubate each egg to its individually required temperature. But the temple was attacked by those who feared the creatures it played host to. Most of the young were lost and those that survived fled, making homes throughout Albion and the rest of the world," the old man explained. "However, there is a legend that one very special creature is still there. The legend says that this egg was placed in the heart of the Temple after the attacks. The Temple was then hidden by magic, lost to those who would destroy it, to protect the egg until such a time as destiny had decided. If this egg fell into the wrong hands, before its time had come, then the world would fall into darkness."

"What was in the egg?" Merlin asked. Arthur glanced at him before leveling his eyes back on the aging physician. If it was a dragon, then Merlin would be indispensable as a Dragonlord.

Gaius closed his eyes for a moment. "A phoenix."

Luke's eyes lit up like stars and he practically vibrated in his seat. Merlin touched his arm and he kept his mouth shut, but anyone could tell he was excited.

"A phoenix," Morgana breathed out in awe.

"What's so special about a phoenix?" Gwaine asked, looking between the four magic users in the room.

Gaius looked at Luke and Arthur followed suit. Luke glanced at Merlin and Merlin nodded with a motion of his hand to the rest of the table. Luke grinned. "A phoenix is a bird of fire," he started, nearly bouncing in his chair. "Some people say it was made of fire, some say it was just a bird that gave off a lot of heat. A phoenix can live for over a thousand years. When it feels it is about to die, it builds a nest and lights itself and its nest on fire."

"Ouch," Gwaine noted.

Luke shook his head. "Fire doesn't hurt a phoenix normally, but when it bursts into flames, it's reduced to ashes. Then the ashes become an egg, in which is the phoenix. So, in a way, a phoenix is immortal. It lives, it dies, and is reborn. Forever." He beamed around at everyone gathered as if this news should be cause for celebration.

"A phoenix can be a dangerous weapon," Morgana took up in the moment of silence that followed, before Luke could continue. "If you kill a phoenix, you can use the parts of its body to create powerful spells. The eyes are the most potent part, followed closely by the heart."

"Why the eyes?" Lancelot asked.

Everyone looked at Luke. He jumped to explain, obviously feeling useful and happy about it. "A phoenix isn't created by magic. It _is_ magic. When a phoenix cries, its tears can heal any wound, any illness. Its eyes can see farther than any other creature, magic or not. Some say it can even see into the hearts of men. Beyond that, its call is supposed to be a beautiful song that can cause even gods to stop in their tracks and that no instrument can mimic. Some legends say it can light itself on fire when it is perfectly healthy, as a protective measure or a weapon, and not burn itself," he rattled off quickly, almost too fast for a few of those gathered to catch. But the message was clear regardless - everything about a phoenix was power to a sorcerer.

"Do you know what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands?" Merlin asked, though his tone suggested he already had an idea. He clasped his hands together to keep from rubbing at his sleep deprived eyes and focused on his apprentice. Morgana frowned in his direction.

Luke shrugged. "Not really. I would guess, though, that if a phoenix...a creature of good magic," he specified with a glance around the table, "fell into the hands of someone evil...It would probably be an evil phoenix."

"Its magic turned backwards," Morgana continued smoothly. "All good things turned evil. Morgause could change fate-" Merlin flinched and Morgana noticed. Her eyebrows came together and her frown deepened as she kept talking. "She could take control of entire kingdoms."

Arthur flipped his gaze back on Tor and Lionel. "Do you know where this temple is?"

There was a momentary pause and then Lionel and Tor nodded, hesitantly. "We have an idea," Lionel said, "based on the words of the villagers we questioned."

"Then we can assume Morgause knows where it is as well," Arthur stated, standing. "We leave at once. We must find the Temple of the Sun first and stop Morgause from capturing the phoenix." He looked at his knights. "Find me Sir Tristan," he said to Lancelot, who immediately hurried from the room. "Percival," he said, "I will leave you and Leon in charge of the knights while I am away."

"M-me?" Percival stuttered out, his eyes flying wide. Arthur nodded resolutely and Percival gulped. Leon clapped a supportive hand on his shoulder and smiled at the much younger knight. Glancing between them, Percival steeled himself. "Yes, sire. I will not let you down."

"Good." Arthur nodded. "Now, ready eight horses for travel immediately. The traveling party will consist of myself, Merlin, Luke, Tor, Lionel, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Tristan. Hurry." Gwaine, Percival, Tor, and Lionel left to do as asked and Arthur turned to his remaining audience.

"I get to go?" Luke asked into the quiet.

Arthur nodded again. "You know the most about phoenixes. I'll need you." Arthur turned to Morgana. "Morgana..." He hesitated, seeing her frightened eyes staring at the table, but she looked up at him at the sound of her name. "I'm leaving you in charge of the kingdom while I'm gone, " he said gently. Her eyes widened. "Gaius and Guinevere, not to mention the knights and Geoffrey, will be here to assist you should you need any help. We won't be gone long."

Morgana opened and shut her mouth several times before any sound came out. "Yes. Yes," she repeated more firmly. "Thank you, Arthur." Her gratitude was genuine.

After all she'd done, he was still allowing her this chance. The longer she was on his side, the less she understood why she had ever been against him.

"We need to be on our guard," Gaius warned as he stood from his seat. Every eye turned on him. "If Morgause was so open about where she was headed, then we must assume she's expecting to be followed."

...

...

Merlin had dismissed the stable boy who had been readying his horse. He needed a moment to himself and saddling his horse had seemed the perfect distraction. Luke was gathering their supplies, the magical and medicinal ones, so he had nothing to do. It felt strange to not be rushing to get everything ready for Arthur, but he was glad to be alone as well.

He pulled the belt tight around his horse's stomach and then pat her on the neck. "Good girl," Merlin said, voice soft. She snorted lightly and Merlin smiled. It quickly turned sour though. He'd never had visions while sleeping before, not like Morgana. And yet... "I think...this may be my final ride, Glydia."

Glydia was Merlin's favorite horse. She had been his mount on countless trips with Arthur, faithful even in the face of danger. When Merlin was made Court Sorcerer, Arthur had officially gifted her to him, saying every noble should own his own steed. He would miss her.

And Archimedes. Merlin hadn't gotten a chance to say goodbye to his faithful feathered friend. The falcon was allowed to come and go as he wished now that Merlin was the Court Sorcerer. He hadn't been around when Merlin woke up this morning, still out and about doing whatever falcons did on their own. Merlin would miss him too.

"Merlin."

Merlin jumped, dropping his hand from Glydia's neck and turning to face the voice that called him. Morgana stepped into the stables. Her dark dress was getting hay all over it near her feet but she didn't seem to mind or even notice.

"Morgana," Merlin greeted. "What are you doing here?"

Morgana hesitated for the span of a heart beat and then hurried the last few steps between her and Merlin. She touched his arm and looked up into his eyes. "Don't go on this trip." Her voice was as frightened now as Merlin had ever heard it, but hard and quiet like even her voice was wearing armor.

Merlin's heart stopped beating. Morgana was a seer. Tethella had said she was the third most powerful seer in the world. If Merlin had seen a vision of this trip in his dreams, then of course Morgana had as well. All that mattered now was where they differed.

He pulled out of her grip gently and turned to finish readying Glydia. "I have to go," he said.

"No you don't," Morgana insisted, her voice lifting from a whisper. "Luke knows more about phoenixes than anyone, and you've been training him. Arthur will have knights with him. You don't need to go."

Merlin ran his hand along the saddle slowly. "It is my duty, Morgana, my destiny. I need to be at Arthur's side."

"Even if you risk your own life?" Morgana asked, her voice bitter.

Merlin turned halfway, to look at Morgana while keeping his hand on the saddle. He looked at her shoulder for a brief moment before looking her directly in the eyes. "Especially then."

Morgana gasped, her eyes going wide, and took a single step back. "You saw it too," she said. There was no question. Merlin turned away and walked over to the camp supplies sitting a few feet away. Morgana took a half a step toward him again and then returned to her previous spot. "Merlin, if you saw it, then why are you going? You can't go!"

Merlin was reminded of when Morgana foresaw the Questing Beast, when she had frantically run to Arthur and begged him not to leave. He brought one of the bags of supplies over to Glydia. "Morgana-"

"No," Morgana interrupted. "Merlin, you _can't_ go. If you go...If you go..." She took several steadying breaths, her whole body shaking. She shut her eyes and tried to breathe, but it was clear that she wasn't calming down.

Merlin dropped the bag next to Glydia and instead wrapped Morgana in a hug. Her arms gripped his jacket immediately.

"Merlin, I saw you die," she whispered brokenly. Merlin's arms tightened around her.

"It'll be alright," he whispered back, reassuring her even if he didn't have all the answers.

"How can it be alright if you're dead?" she asked. "What do you think will happen to Arthur if you die? Do you know what that would do to him?"

Merlin stayed quiet for a long moment. He didn't want to think of how Arthur would react if his vision came true. He didn't want to consider how hurt Arthur would be by his passing. The Great Dragon had said Merlin would help Arthur to unite all of Albion. But he had also said Morgana was evil. Merlin had set Arthur on the course for Albion and he had given him allies on every side. Maybe that was all he was meant to do? Maybe his part in destiny was over?

No. He couldn't think that way. There was still so much Merlin wanted to do with Arthur, needed to do in fact. He refused to just give up.

He pulled away and looked down at Morgana. There were tears running down her cheeks. He brushed them away gently as he spoke. "If Morgause can try and change her fate...then so can I. And I'm more powerful than she is, remember?"

Morgana smiled, almost laughed, and caught Merlin's hand as he pulled it away from her face. "Emrys," she said like it was an inside joke.

Merlin smiled. "Exactly."

...

...

"Bærnan."

"Bernan."

"Bærnan. Bær. nan."

"Bærnan."

The wood ignited in the fire circle. Luke beamed and Merlin pat him on the shoulder. Gwaine clapped like Luke had just won a jousting tournament and Luke blushed.

"Way to go, Junior!" he cheered. "You're getting pretty good!"

Luke frowned at the nickname. Looking at the fire, small but growing as it caught on the logs, made him smile again.

"Good job," Merlin complimented him, then stood up and walked over to where Arthur was unrolling his sleeping gear. Luke stayed by the fire.

"I don't ever remember our fires being that small," Arthur noted absently.

Merlin shrugged. "You had a more experienced sorcerer." He sat down next to Arthur, where his own pack was already laid out. He liked this sense of normalcy, as if it were just he and Arthur out on an extended hunting trip instead of a group of knights and sorcerer's off to face danger and possible death.

"What did you and Morgana talk about?" Arthur asked. Merlin cocked his head to the side in question. "I saw her leaving the stables. She looked upset. What did you two talk about?"

Merlin swallowed heavily and hoped the dark of the night hid it from Arthur. "Nothing."

If Arthur's raised eyebrow was anything to go by, it didn't. Merlin averted his gaze and Arthur hit him in the foot with Excalibur's sheath.

"Ow." He glared at Arthur and Arthur glared right back. It was a familiar battle. Merlin withered first. "We were talking about Morgause. Morgana," Merlin glanced around at the others around the camp and lowered his voice so only Arthur could hear. "Morgana had a vision." If he was leaving a detail out, Arthur didn't have to know.

"What happened in the vision?" Arthur moved to sit next to Merlin. "Nothing good, I can guess. Morgana doesn't cry easily."

How to explain that without revealing his own dreams? Merlin took a deep breath, and cracked. "I...had a vision too," he revealed. He hated keeping secrets from Arthur.

Arthur nearly gave himself whiplash turning to look at Merlin. "What?"

"Morgause got a prophesy. She was told how she would die." Merlin locked eyes with Arthur. "That's why she's after the phoenix. She's afraid to die."

"Everyone is afraid to die," Arthur said quietly.

"Even you?" Merlin asked, equally soft toned.

Arthur nodded slowly and broke eye contact. "Yes. Even me, Merlin." He watched his knights and Luke as they set up their sleeping gear for a moment. "What else did you see?"

Merlin shrugged and let his gaze wander as well. "It was very...complicated. I don't know what was the past and what was the future. We'll find the temple. We'll find the egg. Morgause was there and we were fighting." He and Morgause were fighting.

"Who won the fight? Which of us gets the egg?"

Merlin looked at Arthur and found Arthur watching him intently. "I don't know. My vision ended before it was over." That, at least, wasn't a lie.

"What about Morgana's?"

"If she saw who got the egg, she didn't tell me. She was worried about our safety. I spent the entire conversation calming her down. I didn't even think to ask how it ended. I guess," he looked down at his feet, "I figured I already knew."

Arthur tried to catch Merlin's eyes, but Merlin didn't look at him again. He wanted to ask what Merlin meant, but he had an idea of what Merlin would say. It would probably be something about destiny and Arthur being the Once and Future King and Merlin always being at his side. That's what he usually said in serious moments like this. And yet, his tone wasn't quite right for one of his wise speeches. Merlin sounded more reserved, his words heavy with something he wasn't saying.

It made Arthur uneasy somewhere deep inside of himself.

The knights cried out suddenly and both Merlin and Arthur turned quickly to see the problem. The fire had shot high up into the sky and over the rocks holding it in the circle. The fire spilled onto the grass and quickly spread toward the supplies.

"Arthur!" Merlin shouted, jumping up quicker than Arthur had thought possible. He ran and grabbed as much of the supplies as possible. Arthur was right behind him.

"Get it out!" Arthur ordered to his men.

Gwaine was chucking dirt at the flames, but it didn't seem to be doing any good. Lancelot and Tristan joined him to hurl more dirt on the fire while Tor and Lionel took the water skins and poured their water on the flames. Nothing even dampened the blaze.

"Ah!" Luke yelled and fell back from the fire, holding his left arm, where flames were licking at his clothes.

Merlin cursed and dropped the supplies he was holding. He jumped over a trail of fire to get to his apprentice. "Luke!"

"I'm sorry! I was trying to-"

So Luke had tried to make it bigger with magic. That's why the dirt and water didn't work! Merlin pulled Luke away from the rampaging flames and then threw his hand out toward the heart of the fire. "áðrysman!"

The flames went out almost instantly. They seemed to freeze where they burned, then dimmed and vanished like a candle that ran out of wick, leaving everyone in the dim light of the moon.

No one moved for a long while. Luke let out a whimper next to Merlin and a few of the knights were breathing loud enough to be heard in the quiet, but other than that it was a silent night.

"Gearwian clíewen léohtfæt." Merlin said it quietly but it was overly loud in the silence.

A blue ball of light appeared in Merlin's hand. Merlin's golden eyes looked even more alien in the blue light than they did in daylight. The ball floated over to the fire pit and expanded until it was as wide as the pit itself. There it hung in mid-air, revolving slowly and silently, providing more than enough light to see by. Merlin turned to look at Luke still lying on the ground.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Luke began to rush out. "It was an accident. I just-"

"Stop it," Merlin ordered. He knelt down next to Luke and reached out. "Give me your arm. You burned yourself."

"He burned half the camp!" Tor shouted angrily. "This is why magic is dangerous!"

A hand on Tor's shoulder silenced him. He gulped and turned, but instead of seeing Arthur there as he expected to, he saw Lancelot. He calmed until the hand gripped his shoulder tighter.

"You really should be careful what you say, Sir Tor," Tristan said conversationally from his left. "Magic created the fire and magic put the fire out. It's also the reason you can see right now. It's no more dangerous than a smith's forge or an untrained warrior. Everyone makes mistakes."

Something behind his gentle words was like a deadly sharp knife and Tor gulped and nodded. Lancelot pat him genially on the shoulder and moved to help Tristan and Lionel assess the damage.

Merlin tore the remainder of Luke's sleeve below the elbow off and turned his arm one direction, then the other, as easily as he could. Luke hissed a few times but was otherwise silent. "It's not bad, but I'll wrap it anyway. I'll need-" He stopped abruptly when his medical bag was dangled next to him. He looked up and saw Arthur standing there. "Thanks."

"I thought it was taking too long to catch, so I just thought I'd help it along," Luke finally explained himself.

Merlin took a quiet breath. "Luke...your magic is not very powerful," he explained as he took his own waterskin and poured a little on the burn. Luke hissed quietly. "You shouldn't try to over work it. Make do with what you've got and do the best you can. You were born with an affinity for magic and it's going to take you years and years to perfect it, to harness it the way I know you want to. I warned you of that before I started your training."

He pulled a small bottle from his medical bag and examined it in the light. It was nearly clear, with a slight yellow tint to it. The glass was shining blue in the light though and Merlin had to open it and smell it to make sure he had what he wanted. As soon as he uncorked the bottle, a sweet scent floated into the air.

"What is that?" Arthur asked. "It smells like Morgana's baths."

Merlin glanced up at him briefly before applying the oil in the bottle to a strip of white cloth. "Lavender oil," he explained in an almost off-handed manner. He pressed the cloth to Luke's burn and the boy started to hiss but stopped halfway. Merlin bound the cloth to Luke's arm quickly and then began putting his things away. "It eases the pain and quickens healing, and makes scarring less likely."

Luke was looking between the bandage and Merlin in shock. Gwaine gave a half-laugh. "Seems you've learned somethin' from Gaius after all."

Merlin shrugged. "Easy. Ask me something difficult and I'll really blow you away," he said with a grin.

The knights grinned back at him, though Gwaine was smirking at both him and Arthur and winked when he caught Merlin's eye.

Arthur's grin faded slowly into a light frown as he looked back at the spinning light. "You've been practicing magic for most of the time I've known you, haven't you?"

This time Merlin snorted. "Arthur, I've been practicing magic since I came out of the womb." He was finished packing his bag again and stood up, slipping the strap over his shoulders. "But why?"

Arthur pointed at the light. "I remember this light."

Merlin followed Arthur's finger and stared at the orb at the center of camp. "You do?"

A nod. "It saved my life once," he said. "A light to guide me in one of my darkest hours. Well, at the time. I've faced much worse since you drank poison for me. Still, why is it that even when I'm doing the saving, you're actually saving me instead?"

"Because neither of you is complete without the other," Tristan said as if it were obvious. "If you weren't saving each other, the world would be out of balance."

Arthur shook his head with a soft snort while his knights chuckled, but no one offered any opposing remarks. Merlin was glad they didn't. He liked the idea that he and Arthur would always save each other, always be there for each other. They were two sides of the same coin, two halves of a whole, destined for one another.

Frowning, Merlin's eyes flashed golden and two things happened simultaneously: some of the collected firewood flew into the fire circle and the fire lit again, and the blue orb vanished. The unnatural blue light was gone, replaced by the familiar glow of a campfire.

"Aw," Gwaine whined. "I wanted ta touch it. Would that've hurt me, Merlin?" he asked.

Merlin shrugged. He'd never had anyone touch it before. He didn't know. When he looked back at Arthur, the king was staring at him curiously. "What?"

Arthur shook his head. "Is there anything I've done in the past five years that you _haven't_ had a hand in?"

"Probably," Merlin noted, then smirked. "But nothing immediately comes to mind."

...

...

Merlin helped Luke pack up his things the following morning, since he only had one arm to use. Luke held the last saddlebag closed while Merlin clipped it shut and then they were done and ready to go. Merlin glanced around at the others, still teasing one another while they rolled up their things, and then placed a hand on Luke's shoulder.

"There's a surprise for you back in Camelot," he said.

A smile drew up the corners of Luke's mouth. "A surprise?"

Merlin nodded. "Yeah. A position in the royal household," he revealed. "It'll be good training for you."

Now Luke looked excited. Merlin felt a little bad about getting the boy's hopes up, but only a very little. "Really? What kind of position? What'll I be doing? Sharpening swords? Lighting fires? Healing people?"

Merlin's lips quirked up. "Well it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" As Luke pouted, Merlin gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll help you up."

Arthur, having overheard them, turned away before the young man could see his smirk. Lancelot came to stand next to him and lifted his eyebrows.

"Well that's a dangerous glint in your eyes," the knight commented. "Should I be worried?"

"I told Merlin to find me a new manservant," Arthur quipped lightly.

Lancelot gave a slight frown and tilt of his head. Probably the idea of someone besides Merlin being at Arthur's beck and call seemed strange to him. "And why are you smirking like that then? Who did he chose?"

Arthur waved over to where Luke was being helped into his saddle but didn't say a word so as not to draw attention. Thankfully, Lancelot followed his lead. The knight's eyes widened and his mouth dropped open a bit, but when he spoke his voice was quieter than before.

"Well...that should be interesting," he said after a long pause.

That made Arthur snort. "Nothing could be as interesting as _Merlin_ as a servant."

Lancelot answered with a considering noise. "You never know. Merlin hid his magic from you. What do you think a sorcerer in training, in a land where magic isn't forbidden, will be like?"

Arthur shook his head. "No. I told Merlin that Luke would have to do his chores manually. No magic," he said. "Merlin managed that way for years, so can his apprentice."

Now Lancelot wore an indulgent smile. "Arthur, do you really think Merlin kept up with all your demands without a little help?" he asked. "And Luke has less patience. If Merlin cheated, I'm willing to bet his replacement will too."

He left Arthur with that thought and went to help Gwaine, who couldn't get his horse to stand still long enough to tie his sleeping gear to the saddlebags. For his part, Arthur was staring at his horse's flank with growing horror. Lancelot was right. A clumsy manservant was one thing, but a clumsy magician was another. And a clumsy magician _in training_ was even worse.

Having Luke as a servant might _actually_ be more trouble than Merlin had been.

Arthur took a deep breath. Well, he thought, he'd never wanted someone boring to begin with. That's why he'd let Merlin pick, after all. He just hoped Luke didn't burn down the castle trying to stoke the fire.

...

...

**Next Time: Phoenix Tears, Part Two**

_The knights, and sorcerers, find the Temple of the Sun - and with it Morgause. She's determined to claim the power of the phoenix for herself but once again Merlin stands in her way. When Morgause casts a terrible spell, the egg hatches and the moment of truth arrives. Who will it choose to side with: Camelot or her enemies? In a struggle for life and power, one sorcerer won't walk away alive._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Gearwian clíewen léohtfæt = Construct sphere lantern
> 
> Áðrysman = smother
> 
> Bærnan = To expose to the action of heat, cause to burn, kindle, light, set on fire


	11. Phoenix Tears, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The knights, and sorcerers, find the Temple of the Sun - and with it Morgause. She's determined to claim the power of the phoenix for herself but once again, Merlin stands in her way. When Morgause casts a terrible spell, the egg hatches and the moment of truth arrives. Who will it choose to side with: Camelot or her enemies? In a struggle for life and power, one sorcerer won't walk away alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://www.armenianweekly.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/08/phoenix.jpg - a phoenix picture.

The fire incident was the biggest adventure their traveling group had on the way to Caerleon. After they crossed the country border, Tor and Lionel led them in the direction they'd heard the Temple of the Sun was in for several hours. They didn't pass anyone, but they were all wearing nondescript clothes just in case. A band of Camelot knights, two sorcerers, and their king would cause political problems if seen. And the longer they rode, the more Merlin felt a familiar tingle: magic.

"Can you feel that?" he asked Luke. They were riding at the back of the group together.

Luke looked at Merlin and then checked his wrapped arm. "No. I think it's healed pretty well already."

Merlin almost shook his head and said "No. Not that. The magic." but he thought better of it and just nodded at the younger sorcerer. "That's good," he said.

Just then, the party came to a stop. Tor and Lionel looked at each other and at the area around them. Tor nodded to a large and oddly shaped rock and then gave a meaningful look to his companion. Lionel was the one to turn around and address them. "I'm afraid we don't know where to go from here. No one knows where the Temple is beyond this point."

"Well, now what?" Gwaine asked, looking around. There was a sprawling forest in every direction and it all looked the same.

Merlin frowned. Morgause was a powerful witch. If Merlin could feel it here, it was probably only a matter of time before Morgause would have felt it too. He tugged his reins left and kicked Glydia lightly. She trotted easily up the still line. Merlin pulled back, slowing her, as he came even with Arthur.

"I think I can lead us from here," he said.

Arthur regarded him skeptically. "You sure?"

Merlin held up his hand and watched it for a moment. He was shaking ever so slightly. He lowered it to the saddle and nodded. "Yeah. Yes. I can."

For a moment, the king regarded him silently. He was remembering how Merlin had reacted when they had neared Tintagel, when the magic had reached out to Merlin in a way no one else could understand. Would a magic temple do the same? Would the phoenix egg release enough magic to lead Merlin there? Could he lead them through whatever spell kept the temple hidden?

Arthur shook his head. "At least it's something. Go ahead, then," he agreed with a flourish of his arm to the front of the crowd.

With a nod, Merlin took Glydia in front of Tor and Lionel. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"Is he serious?" Tor said behind him when Merlin didn't do anything for several seconds. Lionel kicked him in the leg. "What?"

"You have a big mouth," Lionel said and then proceeded to ignore him.

Merlin took another breath and opened his eyes. "It's this way. I'm sure of it." He kicked Glydia and started off going a little left of their current path.

"That's not even a trail. He's leading us into the middle of nowhere," Tor complained.

"You really think they'd leave a trail to one of the most powerful creatures on the planet?" Tristan asked as he rode his horse past Tor and Lionel to catch up with Merlin.

Gwaine smacked him on the way by. Tor yelped. "Hey! I'm a knight!"

"Then act like it," Arthur told him sharply. "Merlin is a powerful sorcerer and our ally and friend. You would do best to remember that." He kicked his own steed and moved on with the group. "Hurry up, now. We need to find that temple and we need to find it fast."

About twenty minutes later - twenty minutes of weaving around trees and over little hills - Luke gasped. "Oh! This is what you meant!" he called up to the front, to Merlin. "I feel it too!"

Merlin didn't react. There was a cliff coming up. He stopped Glydia at the edge of the cliff and stood up in the saddle to look down into the ravine.

"What do we do now, Merlin?" Lancelot asked. "Where do we go?"

Merlin, for one, didn't understand. The magic felt like electricity right underneath his skin. He was so close he could taste it on his tongue, and yet he'd come to a dead end. The temple was not in the ravine and it wasn't on the other side of it. But he felt like he could reach out and touch it.

Reach out and touch it.

Merlin dismounted and trailed his hand up Glydia's neck as he walked to the edge of the cliff. He glanced down and had to quickly lean away from the edge. It was a long way down. He took several deep breaths to calm his jumpy heart. Then, slowly, he reached out over the edge of the cliff. He didn't see anything, but it felt like he'd touched a wall and then passed through it. He smiled. Taking a deep breath, Merlin lifted his foot and stepped off the cliff-

-and kept walking. He heard the gasps behind him.

"It's a spell," he explained, turning around to face everyone else. "This isn't actually a cliff. It's an illusion."

Arthur nodded and dismounted as well. That was all the evidence he needed, just Merlin's word and he believed. He tied his horse to the nearest tree and walked to the edge of the cliff. Shutting his eyes, Arthur stepped out into the air. Merlin touched his arm when he'd reached him and Arthur opened his eyes again. Arthur took a moment to smile at Merlin and then turned around to wave the knights and Luke onward.

"Let's go. We don't have all day."

One by one each person dismounted and tied their horses. Luke was the first to rush out to meet them. Lancelot took the time to tie off Merlin's horse as well and was the last one off the edge. Merlin nodded once they were all standing on apparently nothing.

"Ok. Follow me," he said. Only about twenty-five feet later, Merlin hit a very solid wall. He felt around and found that it was a door. Turning the handle, he opened the door and created a hole in the sky. He grinned at Arthur before stepping inside, everyone else coming quickly behind him.

Gwaine gasped at the hall they'd entered into. "I'm impressed," he admitted.

It was at least thirty feet high, with gargoyles in the shape of great birds on the top of each of its twenty-six decorative columns. It was lit by floating fire every few feet, six feet above their heads. There were no windows, except for one at the end of the hall. The glass there was colored and arranged to look like a bright, fiery sun in a cloudless blue sky. It almost seemed alive. There were four large doors leading off of the hall, two on either side; one at the front of the hall and one near the end. Statues of knights were arranged along the walls, their swords held poised to fight, to defend.

Lancelot shut the door behind them and the resulting 'thud' echoed loudly down the cavernous hall. Everyone glanced back at him and he shrugged in response.

"Now where do we go?" Tristan asked. "Splitting up seems logical, but unwise, given the circumstances."

"There is no need to split up," a female voice said. "You will not even make it out of this room."

Morgause stepped from behind the farthest right pillar. She looked just as she always did. On her face she wore a contemptuous smile.

"Morgause!" Arthur called, drawing his sword. His knights followed suit. Luke came to stand by Merlin.

"Oh, look. Merlin, so good of you to bring your new pet," Morgause greeted. "Does he like your brand of magic?"

"He's not like you, Morgause. He's a good person," Merlin said darkly. Luke nodded.

"Where's the egg, Morgause?" Arthur asked.

Morgause flicked her gaze to Arthur. "Untouched, for now." They all sighed in relief. She didn't have it. "I was just about to grab it when you came in."

"You can't have it," Tristan stated. "We will not allow you to use a creature of good for your evil purposes."

Morgause laughed. "A phoenix is only as good as the person it chooses to bond with, and it only chooses from those with magic. The phoenix will chose me because I am the most powerful sorcerer here."

" _Merlin_ is the most powerful sorcerer here," Luke stated brazenly. "You are dust on his shoes."

Morgause frowned. "Is that so?" she asked. "Would you like to test that?" Her eyes flashed golden. "Ætlætnes!"

"Nerung!" Merlin shouted back. Morgause's spell hit an invisible wall and the hall shuddered around them.

Morgause frowned. "Ceorfan!"

Merlin didn't even speak that time. He simply held up his hands, his eyes turned gold, and the spell once again only shook the room. Dust fell from the ceiling down onto their heads, catching in their hair. Morgause almost growled in aggravation.

"Ceosel ýst," Merlin cast. There was a breeze in the room and the dust from the floor flew into a frenzy. Suddenly there was a small tornado rushing across the room at Morgause.

Morgause lifted her hands. " Cól wind!" she shouted.

It took a second or two, but the wind dissipated, the dust dropping back to the floor. Morgause was coated in a light layer of the dust herself, her hair windblown, and did not look happy. With a thrust of her hands, a magic force rushed across the room at them. Merlin held up his hands to block it but it still knocked Lionel and Lancelot back into the wall and toppled Gwaine and Luke to the floor.

Merlin threw his hands out as if mirroring her attack, but nothing happened. When he pulled his hands back in, that's when a forced ripped Morgause's feet from beneath her. She landed on the stone with a loud thud and it took a few moments for her to regain her feet, wincing as she did so. Tristan whistled in appreciation.

"Fine," Morgause conceded. "Try this." Her eyes roamed the walls and the roof. "Líffæc, carr ond gagátes."

Nothing happened. The knights glanced around, waiting. Merlin never let his eyes stray from Morgause. Then, suddenly, the gargoyles on top of the pillars and the stone knights around the room cracked and began moving. The birds ruffled their stone feathers and then turned on the Camelot knights.

Merlin glanced at the roof for only a moment and yet, when he glanced back down, Morgause was gone. "Arthur!"

Arthur looked too and cursed. "Go after her." Merlin turned wide eyes on his king. "Go! We'll handle these statues. Morgause is the real danger. You have to stop her from getting the egg." Merlin hesitated. "I said go!"

With a final look at Arthur, and a glance at Luke, Merlin took off running down the hall. He dodged around one knight as it swung its sword at him and blasted one of the birds to pieces when it blocked the door he thought Morgause had gone through. The statue blocking the door was all it took to convince him he was right.

Almost as soon as he was through the door, Merlin could hear the knights and Luke fighting the statues behind him. He wanted to go back and help, but he knew the real problem lay ahead. If he could stop Morgause, then the others would be safe.

He tried to follow the call of the magic. There was magic all around but if he concentrated then he could feel something different, something more ancient, calling out to him. A phoenix was pure magic and so was Merlin. If anyone could find it, he could. There were several hallways and doors that he passed without a moment's glance. Some of the doors were larger than others, likely to accommodate whatever beast used to live within. A few of the doors were broken into as well. Merlin knew most of them were empty. It was true that some probably held ancient treasures, but they were not what Morgause was after.

Merlin's magic led him beyond all of that to a simple door near the end of a hall. The door was already open.

Stepping into the room, Merlin saw Morgause standing with her hands extended just over the egg. "Morgause!" he shouted, a warning in his tone.

Morgause withdrew her hands and turned to face him. She smiled. "Did you abandon your friends to come after me? That's not very like you, Merlin."

"I didn't abandon anyone. I _don't_ abandon anyone," Merlin stated, stepping further into the room.

"Then what do you call what you're doing now?"

"What I'm meant to be doing: stopping you from taking that egg," Merlin said."No matter what."

Morgause laughed at him. "Merlin, you may have magic, but you cannot defeat me. Only one sorcerer is a match for me, and it isn't you. Now, watch me change fate. You may learn something."

She turned back around and reached for the egg again. Merlin looked at the egg and saw that it was beautiful. It was a deep red, flickering like fire, with ripples of gold seemingly dripped onto the surface of the shell. The flickering red seemed to pulse like a heartbeat, faster and faster the closer Morgause's hand came to the surface. The thought that Morgause would taint that beauty made Merlin burn inside.

Morgause stumbled away from the pedestal when she was hit from behind with a spell. It didn't really hurt her, just knocked her sideways. She leveled a stare at Merlin, not quite a glare.

"I warned you. I will not let you take it." Merlin's eyes turned golden. "Try to touch it again and I will not hesitate to kill you."

Morgause sneered at him. "Ábítan."

Merlin swiped his hand in front of him and the spell bounced off, flinging back at Morgause. She dodged to the side and a tapestry hanging from the far wall was torn to shreds. Morgause threw the same spell again, but with more force, more intent, behind it. Merlin had to jump out of the way this time. The door was splinters in seconds.

"Pyrtan," Morgause rattled off.

Merlin held out his hand. "ábǽdan." It was like two swords meeting in the air, a slight boom of noise sounding when the spells met that made the floor shake. While the spells cancelled each other out, Merlin turned his attention to Morgause. He threw his arm sideways and Morgause was flung to his right. She skittered across the floor for several feet.

"Stormum ábéatne!" she shouted even as she was pushing herself to her feet.

A rough breeze began to swirl around them. It grew faster and faster until Merlin winced at a cut on his hand. The egg wobbled on the pedestal. "Cól wind!" Merlin shouted almost desperately. He didn't know if a phoenix egg could break, but he wouldn't take the chance. The wind died almost immediately.

Morgause did not look happy. "How do you so easily negate my spells? That should not be possible."

Merlin shook his head at her with pity. "There are many things you do not understand, Morgause...and you never will."

Recognition hit Morgause like a stone wall and her eyes widened. "You. It's you." She took a half step back before she remembered herself and stood her ground. "You are Emrys."

"That is what the druids call me," Merlin affirmed. "Do you remember what Tethella told you about me?" Morgause flinched and he knew she remembered, what he had seen in his dream. "She said I would stop you."

Morgause frowned and it looked like a grimace. "And I told her I would change my fate, and so I have. I have a phoenix egg." She pointed at it. "As long as I have it, you cannot kill me. That means I will win this fight, Emrys. You are just a man, mortal. I am not."

"The phoenix is not loyal to you yet. You have not claimed the egg. And if I have anything to say about it, you will _never_ have it," Merlin declared, stepping further into the room.

Morgause threw a spell at him with no words, but Merlin killed it easily. It was a weak spell of panic. There was no force behind it. Her fear of death was getting the better of her.

"Merlin?!"

Merlin tilted his head to the side a bit at Arthur's call but never looked away from Morgause. She stared him down. Neither of them paid much mind to the sound of metal footfalls coming down the hall. Then all of a sudden Morgause's expression eased. She held out her hands to Merlin as if giving an offering.

"Why are we fighting, Emrys? We are both creatures of magic," she said sweetly. "We should be on the same side. Those people in Camelot will never truly appreciate the gifts you have. Being their Court Sorcerer, it's like being their pet. You were meant for so much more than that. Don't you want to live forever?"

Merlin glared. He took a definitive step closer to Morgause. "I am so tired of people trying to convince me that Arthur doesn't care about me." Another step. "I am so tired of being told that everyone thinks I'm worthless or an idiot." And another. Morgause looked decidedly less confident now. "Arthur knows me, and I know him. You cannot convince me to leave him; not with magic and not with words." He shook his head as he took one more step closer to Morgause. They were only a few feet apart now. "I don't want to live forever, if I can use what time I already have at Arthur's side; if I can use what time I have left ensuring that you _never_ lay a hand on that egg."

_"Inevitably, you will face each other in combat. You will face him in a struggle for life and power…and you will fall."_

The sound of metal was very close now. Morgause examined Merlin's face and saw only hard determination and loyalty there. It was the same loyalty she'd seen months ago when her attempt to erase his memories had failed to win her his assistance.

_"He is a man whose loyalty will never be questioned. You have right to fear him, Morgause, for you shall not know him until you behold him in all his power."_

His eyes were still a brilliant gold, power coursing just under his skin. He was ready to fight to the death to protect the phoenix egg. Morgause couldn't breathe.

_"Emrys is a peculiar sort of sorcerer. Unassuming on the outside...but so very beautiful on the inside."_

Suddenly, Arthur ran in through the broken door, his knights at his back. They looked a bit worse for wear, but every one of them was alive and well, even Luke. Arthur saw Morgause and lifted his sword, ready to fight.

"Morgause! You're beaten," he said mightily. "Give up now or we will kill you."

Morgause looked at Arthur and then back at Merlin. For a moment, Merlin actually thought she would give up, that they would win that easily. Then the witch's eyes hardened and Merlin's stomach plummeted.

"If I am to die," Morgause said quietly, but with feeling, "then at least I will take you down with me."

Before Merlin could respond, she turned and lifted a hand toward the phoenix egg on the pedestal to her right. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Ámyrðrian ǽlces þinges."

Time slowed down around Merlin at the same moment she finished casting the spell. He saw the red bolt leave Morgause's outstretched hand, heading straight for the pedestal. He pushed off at a dead run for the egg. His fingers grazed its red and gold shell. It was warm - not hot like fire but warmer than a feverish man, and in that moment Merlin knew this was the right thing to do. This egg, so perfect, deserved to be protected.

He wrapped his arms securely and protectively around the egg just as his spell wore off and time sped up again. Morgause's spell caught him right in the back. The pain was excruciating, but he couldn't even open his mouth to scream. The world went dark.

"No!" Luke gasped loudly.

Everyone watched as Merlin jolted and then fell to the ground. His arms stayed wrapped around the egg, limp but still cradling its pulsing surface, but he did not move at all.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, his fright seeping into his voice. He didn't know magic. He didn't know what that spell did.

Still Merlin didn't move. His body didn't shift with even the slightest of breaths. The room was deathly silent. Deathly. Merlin...

"No!" Arthur yelled, as if his denial would set things right.

The king's chest constricted. He couldn't breathe. Breathe. Merlin's chest wasn't moving. His legs loose, his face relaxed, all the tension gone from his body, Arthur could have believed he was merely sleeping. But Merlin wasn't...He wasn't...

Arthur's chest burned with the need for air even as he heaved in breaths. This couldn't be true. It wasn't happening.

Merlin couldn't be dead. Not now. Not so soon! Merlin had been with him for years, through trial after trial. They saved each other. They were always there for each other. He couldn't be gone. It couldn't be that sudden, that final. Except it was. In one fateful moment, Arthur had lost the brightest light in his life. Already it felt like half of him was missing. What was Arthur meant to do, to be, without Merlin?

He'd heard of broken hearts before, had even thought he'd experienced one, but it didn't compare to this. No battle wound had ever hurt this deeply.

His eyes burned but he couldn't blink, couldn't look away from that motionless body. If he just kept watching, he would catch Merlin faking. If he didn't move his eyes, he would see Merlin breathing. If he just didn't lose sight of Merlin, he wouldn't go away, wouldn't disappear. Merlin wouldn't-

Morgause turned to the knights. "It would seem the phoenix egg was my savior after all," she said easily, as if the world had not just ended. "I may not be immortal, but it did let me kill my greatest enemy."

Luke shook where he stood by Lancelot. "Ámyrðrian!" he shouted angrily, holding up his hand, shocking Arthur from his stupor.

The red bolt left his hand just as it had Morgause's, but she negated it easily. "Forget it, child. You may have some magical talent in you, but you are not Merlin. You are no match for me. Now that the legendary Emrys is dead, Camelot will fall easily into my hands."

Gwaine suddenly shot forward from the group toward Morgause, his sword raised high in the air. At his cue, all of the knights, including Arthur, rushed forward to attack at once. Even Tor looked crazed with rage.

"Please," Morgause sighed, as if bored, flinging her hand out.

Everyone was flung backwards into the wall or the ground. They pushed themselves back up again, but it was obvious they were in pain. Arthur knew they couldn't take another hit like that. They needed help. He looked from Morgause to Merlin and his glare slid from his face, his rapid heartbeat slowing once more.

They needed Merlin, but Merlin...

He still couldn't fully grasp it. The truth felt like vapor, just out of reach. It was as if the world was fractured around the vision of Merlin, his body cooling on the hard stones at Morgause's feet. How could Merlin be dead? So sudden, so quick, so permanent. How?

He suddenly remembered the conversation he'd had with Merlin the night before. Morgana had been distraught the day they left and had gone to straight to Merlin. Merlin had said he knew how the fight would end. It hadn't been one of his wise man speeches hidden in those words, but the admission of Merlin's final stand. He'd known this would happen, didn't he?

Still, Arthur couldn't accept it. He shook his head, eyes once again locked on his servant as he put all his will into one wish.

Merlin couldn't be dead. He was Arthur's counsel; his sorcerer; his friend; his destiny; the person Arthur cared about most in this world. Merlin was too powerful to die; too good. How could someone like Merlin die? Why did Merlin have to die?!

Arthur blinked out of his dark thoughts when he became aware of a change in the air. The room was growing hotter by the second. Morgause had noticed, as had everyone else in the room. The egg Merlin still cradled was pulsating like the heart of a man running for his life.

A soft cracking noise echoed in the room and the egg split down the side. With that split the room grew exponentially hotter. Lionel made a comment about it, but Arthur wasn't paying attention. He was too busy watching the egg.

Spreading from the crack was a bright golden light. It was the same shade as Merlin's eyes when he cast a spell. Magic. Soon the whole egg was golden and glowing. A sound like the most beautiful song emanated from the egg as it shifted, morphing from the shape of an egg to the shape of a bird. Merlin's arms fell slack to the ground with their precious cargo gone. The glowing golden bird flapped its wings, rising into the air. Its song grew louder and Arthur began to feel all of his aches and pains evaporate.

As it lifted, the bird grew larger and larger until it was about the size of an eagle. Then the gold flecked away, bursting into flame as it left the bird's body, revealing the beast underneath. The phoenix was marvelous to look at. Its feathers were the color of the sun: different shades of yellow and gold with flecks of orange throughout. Its innermost feathers were a deep, vibrant red. It seemed to have more than one tail, the bushy, brilliant feathers throughout making it appear larger than any tail on any bird Arthur had ever seen. Red and white feathers were rimmed in brilliant gold in the tail. The phoenix as a whole was sleek and glimmering. The word beautiful did not do it justice.

It landed on the pedestal its egg had rested on and looked around the room curiously. Even Morgause had fallen still and silent in its presence. Its long neck curved elegantly as it looked down at Merlin's body beneath its perch. Its song fell silent and the room felt empty without it.

The ensuing silence was broken by Morgause. "B-brilliant phoenix," she began. The phoenix did not look at her, but she continued. "I, Morgause de Orcades, High Priestess of the Old Religion, beseech thee. Grant me thy power."

The softest of sounds reached their ears in the responding silence. Arthur was amazed to realize that the phoenix was crying; those gentle sounds were its sobs. He remembered what Luke had said - a phoenix's tears could heal any wound. Except these tears were too late. There was no wound on Merlin to heal. Arthur's heart felt like glass shards in his chest.

"Please," Morgause continued, motioning to herself. "No one has done more for the sake of magic than I. With your gifts combined with mine, magic would become what it was always meant to be."

It seemed the magical bird paid her no heed. It shook its head slowly from side to side, still staring at Merlin's body. The phoenix then fluttered down to sit on the ground by Merlin, and wrapped him in its feathers as it wept.

And then all of a sudden it was on fire. Arthur jumped.

"Merlin!" he shouted, unable to stop from calling out. Lancelot and Gwaine had to grab him to stop him from rushing to save his friend's body from the flames.

A wind picked up in the room. It was soft a first, a barely noticeable breeze. But then it grew stronger. The fire of the phoenix spiraled above the body now encased within. Blue glimmers appeared in the wind, like little bolts of lightning. They were the same color as the light Merlin had made to light the camp. The wind, and the blue lights, joined the flames in swirling around Merlin's body. And all the while, the sound of the phoenix's sobs could be heard.

The flames and the wind lowered to the ground and seemed to be sinking away, except that they were sinking into a shape and not into the floor. They took the shape of a body and then began to dissolve until it was simply Merlin and the phoenix lying on the floor once more, no flames and no wind. The fire, it seemed, had become Merlin's very skin.

The phoenix pulled away, its tears spent, and gracefully moved away from the body. Then it reached its head forward and gently nudged Merlin's face. Arthur held his breath and it seemed the whole room, the whole world, did the same. Even Morgause was silent.

Merlin's eyes slid open slowly, and he took a deep breath of air. Arthur let out a gasp himself, feeling his heart start beating again along with Merlin's. Relief gave Arthur such a head rush that it was only through sheer force of will that he didn't faint.

He was alive. Merlin was alive.

"He's alive," Luke breathed out in relief. "The phoenix chose Merlin."

"No!" Morgause shouted. "I found it first. The phoenix belongs to me," she said dangerously.

With that, she rushed forward and grabbed the phoenix. Arthur expected her to burst into flames, but she didn't even flinch. She pulled the phoenix away from Merlin. It let out a cry like a sad song that broke Arthur's heart all over again. Morgause gasped and looked at her shoulder where a hand rested. Merlin stood behind her and yet no one had seen him move.

"I told you not to touch it," he said, his voice deep and resonating.

"I killed you once and I can kill you again," Morgause answered back. "Ámyrðrian ǽlces þinges!"

The bolt did not come from Morgause's hands, since she was holding the phoenix tightly in both of them. Instead it seemed to travel through Merlin's hand where he held her tight. His entire body lit up with red electricity, but he barely flinched. His eyes were alight with fire.

"Áberan ǽhtgeweald ond andgiet galdorcræft," Merlin said in response, his voice calm and powerful.

Morgause let out a strangled noise and dropped the phoenix. It flew up and in a circle above Merlin and Morgause before landing in the far corner of the room, away from the fighting. Morgause fell to her knees on the stone floor and gasped for breath. She lifted her hands and opened her mouth to cast a spell but then stopped. A confused expression crossed her face, then her eyes widened in panic.

"You can't hurt us anymore," Merlin said, his voice still deeper than Arthur had ever heard it. "Leave. Live out the rest of your life in quiet and be content." He sounded like a king, more regal than any Arthur had ever had the privilege of knowing.

Morgause held her chest and leaned forward, shaking and apparently in shock. Her hair shielded her face from view, but it was obvious that whatever Merlin had done had been traumatic for her. Her body stopped shaking for a split second and then she was flipping around to face Merlin once more, a dagger clutched tight in her hands.

"I will not die this way!"

Merlin grabbed her by the right hand, pulling the knife out of the way, and stuck his right hand to her stomach, just beneath her breasts. Everything stopped.

"Why?" Merlin asked, his voice full of remorse. "I didn't want it to end this way..."

He released Morgause's hand and took a step back from her. Where his fingers left her stomach were the last visible remnants of a spell.

Morgause stared up at Merlin, her expression hard. "I am not sorry," she said, every word heavy on her tongue. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell, hard, to the floor.

For several seconds, nobody moved. Then the phoenix flapped its wings and came to stand by Merlin's side. Its head was just high enough for Merlin to caress the feathers there, calming both the bird and himself. He kept his eyes on Morgause the whole time.

Arthur finally pushed himself to his feet. His every ache and pain was gone, thanks to the phoenix's song. He walked over to Merlin slowly, unsure. Merlin was alive but acting strange. The phoenix turned its gaze on Arthur, but it did not flee from him as he drew near.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked, stopping next to his friend. Merlin didn't respond, though he did stop petting the phoenix. "Merlin?" Arthur repeated, touching Merlin's shoulder. As usual, his touch seemed to spark something in the sorcerer.

Merlin lifted his gaze from Morgause to Arthur. His eyes were still ablaze with an inner fire, like on their visit to Tintagel but more wild. As he seemed to realize who was standing with him, the fire began to die down to his normal blue.

"Arthur," he let out in that deeper voice. Then, like with Morgause, his eyes rolled back and he fell. Unlike Morgause, he did not hit the floor.

The phoenix jumped out of the way as Arthur rushed to catch Merlin before he fell too far. He slowly lowered Merlin down, cradled close in his arms, and then checked his pulse.

"Is he-?" Gwaine asked, but stopped.

Arthur shook his head. "He's alive," he breathed out, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Merlin's temple, feeling exhausted.

There was a collective sigh of relief from everyone present, even Tor.

...

...

"I can't believe you let the phoenix go," Luke complained lightly. He was seated backwards on one of Gaius' chairs, his arms crossed on the back.

Merlin pulled a vial of green powder from the shelves before turning his smile on Luke. "It's a free creature, Luke. I couldn't keep it."

The phoenix had actually traveled with them for part of the way back to Camelot. It wouldn't let the knights touch it, but they had nearly run their horses into trees several times due to staring at it too much. Just as they crossed the border back into Camelot and stopped to camp for the knight, Merlin had given it a soft caress and it had nuzzled into his hand. He nodded to it, silently letting it know it could leave if it wanted to. The phoenix called out a goodbye song to the knights, lifting their hearts and easing any riding aches they had, then flew away into the night sky like a beautiful beacon of hope.

"But it chose you!" Luke countered, petulant. "It was _your_ phoenix! You had every right to keep it!"

Merlin shook his head, his smile fading a bit. "I don't think you can understand," he started. "When I woke up, I could feel the phoenix, its heartbeat, its life, as if it were my own." He motioned to his chest with his free hand. "Even now, with the phoenix gone, I can still feel it. And I know that if I ever have need of it, the phoenix will be there for me. I didn't need to keep it always at my side. Besides, you said it yourself, a phoenix is not a creature of magic. It _is_ magic. You can't contain something like that. You can't own it."

Luke was staring at Merlin with awe sparkling in his eyes. "You know...sometimes...You really say the most amazing things."

A laugh. "You'd be surprised."

There was barely a knock at the door before Arthur's voice called out, sounding both bored and annoyed. "Alright, let's get this over with. Get a move on, Luke." The king stepped into the room and paused when his eyes alighted on Merlin at the table.

Luke frowned and looked between Merlin and Arthur. "What?"

Merlin smiled at Luke. "Oh right. In all the commotion I forgot to tell you. Starting today, you are to be King Arthur's new manservant," he said like it was a great honor.

The look on Luke's face said he thought it was anything but. Merlin didn't doubt that he and Arthur had worn similar expressions the day Uther paired them up. " _This_ is the great surprise you had for me? You must be joking."

"Hardly," Arthur drawled, dragging his eyes away from Merlin with what seemed to be a huge effort. "You should feel honored. It's a grand position in the royal household. Your master held it for five years."

"Yeah," Luke scoffed, "and you've both told me how terrible he was at it."

"Exactly. You have big shoes to fill. Now move. We have a lot to do today," Arthur ordered before turning and walking out of sight.

Luke looked at Merlin, baffled. "How does that even-That doesn't make any-" He shook his head. "I don't understand him."

Merlin laughed softly. "He is quite the character. First lesson, though: Don't make him wait when he comes calling. He doesn't like that."

As if on cue, Arthur shouted up the stairs, "LUKE!"

Luke jumped up and raced for the door. At the door, he paused and looked back at Merlin. "This is part of my training?"

"Not for magic," Merlin admitted, "but it'll still do you some good. Now go," he said, pointing out the door. "We can talk more when you get home tonight."

Luke shook his head and hurried out of sight, shutting the door behind him. Merlin grinned, remembering his first days as Arthur's manservant. If Arthur ran Luke as hard as he'd run Merlin, Luke may not have the strength to complain for a few days.

Merlin walked over to the main work table with the green powder, where he had gathered a myriad of ingredients. His magic book was lying open on the table as well. The potion on the page was one to transform a person into an animal for an hour. Merlin was thinking, if he got the original potion to work then he could make it work for two or four hours later. And if he needed to sneak up on someone, gather information, he could always do it as a bird or a squirrel and not have to worry about being caught.

As he chopped the ingredients, his thoughts drifted. Ever since the phoenix chose Merlin, Arthur had been acting different. He had insisted Merlin ride on his horse the entire way back, even once Merlin had regained consciousness and insisted he was alright. When not on horseback, he made sure to touch Merlin's shoulder or head or back whenever he passed by, but only with the lightest contact, as if he were afraid any more pressure would cause Merlin to break.

The only reason Merlin could come up with for the change was the fact that he had died. It was only for a minute or two, but Merlin knew he'd died. He had forced himself not to think about how Arthur would react to his death because it had been too painful, but perhaps he should have been considering how Arthur would respond to him surviving instead. The extra contact wasn't unwanted, the exact opposite in fact, but Merlin didn't know what to do from here.

Was Arthur going to pull away again once he realized Merlin wasn't going anywhere? Merlin didn't want him to. He wanted to reciprocate and touch Arthur whenever he was in arm's reach. Just simple pats or taps or a hand on the shoulder. And he still hadn't worked a hug out of the king yet. Even dying hadn't been enough to-

"Ah," he let out in pain and looked at his hands. He'd cut past the ingredients and into his own hand. Blood was already beginning to drip onto the table. "Ow."

Except, it already didn't hurt. Lifting his arm, Merlin watched the blood flowing from his index finger, now dripping down his arm instead of onto the table, and worried about the lack of pain. Then the wound stopped bleeding altogether. Merlin gasped as the skin sealed itself once more. As suddenly as it had been there, the wound was gone: healed in a matter of moments. There wasn't a single mark to say it had ever been there.

Merlin looked around the room, like someone was going to be standing there muttering healing spells. He was alone. Merlin looked back at his hand. The blood was still staining his hand and arm, but there was no cut. Merlin took the knife in his hand and laid it on the skin of his palm. Closing the fingers of his left hand around the blade, Merlin took a deep breath and pulled it back swiftly, before he could reconsider.

"Ahhh...," he hissed out. It hurt! _Why_ had he done that? _Obviously_ it was a bad idea! He dropped the knife to hold his wrist as the wound throbbed and bled.

And then the pain was gone. Merlin watched, eyes wide, as once more his skin sealed and the wound was fully healed in moments.

"Why...?" he asked quietly. His mind ran a marathon around what had changed in the last few days: any spells performed, any strange people coming to court. Nothing had happened. "Except," he breathed out.

The phoenix.

It must have done something to him when it brought him back to life. Merlin had known, as soon as he opened his eyes that day in the temple, that his magic was stronger than ever. The phoenix had magnified his powers exponentially. Merlin had thought that was all it was, but now he wasn't sure. He could also heal. What did that mean? Could he be killed or was he immortal, like the phoenix?

" _How is it you came to be here?"_ the Barghest had asked. Its words came back to Merlin as if the beast itself were standing before him. _"You who will live for a thousand ages…the young immortal before the fall…"_

There was a knock at the door and Merlin jumped. "Merlin!" Gwaine's voice called through the wood, "There's a matter fer the Court Sorcerer to handle. It sounds important!" Though his tone suggested it was anything but.

Merlin closed his hand, as if he still had a wound and was trying to hide it, and looked at the door. "I'll be there in a minute!"

He heard Gwaine sway away and looked down at his hand. He grabbed a cloth and dunked it in the water he'd been planning on using for his potion and then began to furiously scrub the blood off his arm and hand. No one needed to know. Merlin didn't quite understand what was going on yet himself, so no one else needed to know.

No one was going to know.

...

...

**Next Time: An Age of Darkness**

_While Merlin struggles to understand the changes in his life, a darkness is growing in the north. Morgause is gone but enemies of Camelot still remain and an old friend turned foe marches for Camelot, a small army of magic users at his back. Now Morgana must make a difficult choice and Merlin must attempt to once again change a fate the Great Dragon has foretold. And reunited with Mordred, will Morgana's loyalty to Arthur hold true?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Nerung = guard
> 
> Ætlætnes = destroy
> 
> Ceorfan = slay
> 
> Ceosel ýst = sand storm
> 
> Cól wind = calm wind
> 
> Líffæc, carr ond gagátes = Endow with life, rock and precious stone
> 
> Ábítan = tear to pieces
> 
> Pyrtan = strike
> 
> ábǽdan = repel
> 
> Stormum ábéatne = beaten by storms
> 
> Ámyrðrian ǽlces þinges = Kill entirely/in every respect/utterly
> 
> Ámyrðrian = kill
> 
> Áberan ǽhtgeweald ond andgiet galdorcræft = Take away power and knowledge of magic arts
> 
> Lots of magic this time around. Whew.


	12. An Age of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Merlin struggles to understand the changes in his life, a darkness is growing in the north. Morgause is gone but enemies of Camelot still remain and an old friend turned foe marches for Camelot, a small army of magic users at his back. Now Morgana must make a difficult choice and Merlin must attempt to once again change a fate the Great Dragon has foretold. And reunited with Mordred, will Morgana's loyalty to Arthur hold true?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now is when you should start asking for any deleted scenes you want me to write, so I can get those done and out to you. Anything you want to see between any of these characters, from chapter 1 to chapter 14.

Gwen walked through the halls of Camelot castle, passing servants going this way and that, steadily coming closer to the king's chambers. As she entered the hallway where the rooms were located, she heard a clatter and then Arthur's familiar voice.

"You complete idiot! Get out! Get out before I throw you in the stocks!"

Dashing out of Arthur's room, Luke nearly crashed into Gwen. He stumbled to a stop and clutched the wall, eyes wide and clothing rumpled, his cheeks flushed red. The maid wasn't sure if he was terrified or ticked off.

"Luke," she said, shocked, "What happened?"

The young blonde shook his head and scowled. " _His_ _highness_ is having a fit," he said. "Yesterday breakfast was 'too cold' even though it was steaming. He beat me senseless on the training field yesterday afternoon and then let his knights have a go at me too. And now I was stoking the fire and he threw a book at me for moving too slow."

Gwen frowned. That didn't sound like the Arthur she had come to know so well. Something had to be wrong. Now she was even more glad she had come.

Luke glared at the stone. "Merlin said he's a good man and I thought I was beginning to see it, but this is impossible!"

The dark skinned woman placed a hand on his shoulder in comfort. His eyes snapped to meet hers. "Don't worry. I'll talk to him."

"To the king?" Luke asked, voice incredulous.

A nod. "Yes. Sometimes he needs to be put in his place, just like everyone else. There are just so few who can do it right." As far as Gwen was aware, only she, Merlin, and Morgana could tell Arthur off without some sort of punishment.

Letting Luke head off toward Gaius' chambers, Gwen quietly let herself into Arthur's room. All of the equipment for stoking a fire was scattered across the floor with a book amidst the mess. Arthur's desk was a battlefield of papers, crumpled and ripped up and ink splattered. And the king himself was sitting in the window, head leaning on the glass and staring down into the courtyard.

At the sound of the door shutting, Arthur snapped, "I thought I told you to get out."

"You said no such thing and I will not obey if you do," Gwen told him in the most authoritative voice she could manage.

Arthur jumped, lifting his head and staring at her with a guilty expression. "Guinevere." He sighed and ruffled his hair. "I apologize. I thought you were-"

"Luke," Gwen interrupted him easily. "Yes. I saw him in the hall looking a bit frazzled. He doesn't understand what's wrong with you."

That got a bitter snort from the king. "That's not surprising," he said, his voice matching his snort for bitterness. His eyes drifted out the window again. "Even I'm not quite sure what's wrong with me."

Gwen took a deep breath and then took the few steps to cross the room to where Arthur was seated. She looked him over, in his white unlaced top with messily rolled up sleeves and wrinkled brown pants - not his most kingly attire. His hair was mussed from him running his hands through it too often and his gaze was distant, a frown pulling at his lips.

Then her eyes traveled out the window to where the king was looking. The courtyard. Surprisingly, the courtyard was mostly empty at the moment. A serving girl was carrying a basket toward a side hall's entrance, but other than that there was only one person down there. Merlin was dressed in his usual Court Sorcerer outfit - dark pants, blue shirt, red neckerchief, all made of fine fabrics he could never have dreamed of wearing as a peasant. He was frowning down at an open book in his lap and leaning against one of the stone statues at the base of the main stairs. As she watched, Gwen saw Luke come bounding out of the doors and hurry over to him.

Arthur let out a long breath that, from anyone else, Gwen would've called a sigh. Then he leaned his head on the glass once more and shut his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" Gwen asked quietly.

"Doing what?" Arthur asked, his voice tired.

"Shutting Merlin out," Gwen explained briefly. Arthur tensed but didn't respond. "He doesn't understand, you know? He thinks he's done something wrong but he doesn't know what it was so he doesn't know how to fix it."

For a long moment, the room was silent. Gwen almost thought she wouldn't get an answer and would have to ask again.

Then Arthur took a deep breath and opened his eyes. "He can't fix it," he said, "because there's nothing to fix."

Gwen frowned. "Well that's a lie if I ever heard one." She got a piercing look for that and put her hands on her hips. "Arthur, you're actually trying to write your own speeches," she said, aghast, pointing at the parchment cluttered table, which made Arthur blush. "You never do that. As long as he's been here, it was Merlin's job to write your speeches. And he's sitting out there reading a book and looking miserable because you won't talk to him. You haven't talked to him since you all got back from The Temple of the Sun."

Arthur frowned. "I have to-" At Gwen's withering look his sentence trailed off. This time there was no other word for what Arthur did except sigh. "Things changed at the temple," Arthur said. "I'm not sure how to behave now."

"What happened?" she asked. "No one seems to want to talk about it." Not even Lancelot would tell her, only saying she should ask Merlin or Arthur about it.

The king didn't answer. Instead he got up and moved to throw away all the ruined papers on his desk. Gwen watched him work for a few moments, his movements stiff and deliberately slow. Whatever had happened must have been awful for Arthur, and it involved Merlin. And that meant really only one thing.

Walking over to Arthur, Gwen grabbed him gently yet firmly by the upper arm and forced him to face her. "Arthur," she said, her tone matching her grip. He looked her in the eyes. "Merlin may have been hurt on that trip," and she didn't miss the way Arthur flinched but tried to hide it, "but what you're doing now? That is hurting him too. Remember that."

Tension flooded from Arthur and his shoulders dropped several inches. "I know. Trust me, I know."

...

...

There were many things Morgana's gift of foresight allowed her to see in advanced. Thus, she was hardly ever surprised. But having Merlin turn up in her room just before she would begin to prepare for bed was one of those rare moments. One look at his serious face and Morgana sent Gwen away to fetch something from the kitchens. While her friend and maid was not fooled by the nonchalant request at all, she did leave them alone without question. It was likely she would spend some time with Lancelot before venturing back to this room.

"What's wrong?" Morgana asked as soon as the door was shut. Had he had a vision again?

Merlin shook his head. "Morgana," he said, and his voice sounded lost. It was a tone that scared Morgana more than many of her visions had. "I don't know what to do."

"About what?" the lady asked, her voice less demanding than it had been a moment ago.

Merlin looked down at his hands and then clenched them into fists. "You remember the phoenix egg? And how you saw me die? And you begged me not to go but I didn't listen? And I died?"

She nodded. It wasn't that long ago that Merlin had left on that fateful trip. And it was hard to forget her vision of Morgause killing him, of Merlin lying lifeless on the stone floor in that room, clutching the phoenix egg, of Arthur's pained cry when he didn't get back up.

Oh. Was this about Arthur, perhaps? Morgana had noticed how Arthur avoided Merlin, no doubt due to some misplaced guilt or fear left over from Merlin dying. When Gwen had mentioned noticing the same behaviors, Morgana had encouraged her to go speak with Arthur about her concerns. Gwen had returned seeming pleased but concerned, so Morgana had to assume the talk went at least mildly well.

Unaware of Morgana's thoughts, Merlin continued. "Something happened in the temple. The phoenix brought me back to life, but something changed." He shook his head. "I don't know how big the changes are, and I don't know what to do about them."

Yes, big changes were occurring. Arthur had been forced to imagine life without Merlin and now was stupidly trying to get used to that life without needing to. Arthur was more aware than ever of his feelings toward Merlin and was handling them poorly. But hopefully Gwen had helped mend that void a bit.

Morgana smiled and moved to take Merlin's hands in her own. He jumped and looked into her eyes. "I know my brother can be a bit thick at times," she said, "but don't worry. This is a big change for him, as you said. Give him time and he'll come around. You haven't lost him." She squeezed his hands. "Arthur could never stay away from you for long, Merlin."

For a moment, Merlin just stared at her without blinking. Just when his blank stare was beginning to worry her, Merlin closed his eyes. He nodded, rough and only once.

"Right, yes, of course," he said, a feeble smile fighting for purchase on his face. "Right. Arthur. He-I hope it doesn't take him too long."

He only stayed a moment longer, just enough time to thank her, squeeze her hands in return, and leave. Morgana was left feeling like she had missed something obvious. It wasn't an emotion she was used to having and she didn't like it. Merlin had come to talk to her about Arthur, right? About the changes occurring in their relationship? Or maybe not. Maybe he'd been trying to say something else and Morgana had blown right past it.

From now on, she would need to pay closer attention to Merlin and her brother in order to figure it out. She didn't enjoy being in the dark. She wanted to help.

...

...

The next day found Merlin and Arthur brought together once more, but for official business. In the throne room, a man in a dark green robe stood before Arthur on the throne, Merlin at his right hand. There were guards at the door as usual.

"Greetings," Arthur said amiably with a nod toward his guest. "I was told you requested a meeting with both myself and the Court Sorcerer. Who might you be?"

The man nodded, his brown hair shaking where it hung to his chin. He pulled the hood from his cloak off, revealing a middle aged visage and shadows under his eyes.

"My name is Accolon," he introduced himself with his head held high, "and I am here as an emissary for my people."

"And who are your people?" Arthur asked.

"My people are all those who still practice the Old Religion, the magic users across your land," Accolon stated proudly. "We have decided that it is not your right to sit upon the throne of Camelot, to rule Albion, when you have persecuted and murdered so many of our kind."

Merlin jolted beside the king. Neither he nor Morgana had heard of such a decision, had any visions, or been approached at all. Surely one of them would have been asked to a meeting if magic users had doubts about the king?

Arthur was steady in his seat. "And what would you have me do?" His voice was calm, a leading question with an answer he thought he already knew.

"You must abdicate from the throne and allow a magic user of our leader's choosing to rule in your place," Accolon said.

Their leader? Who was the leader of all magic people? Merlin had been hailed and bowed to by many druids and magic users, but even he didn't think he was considered a leader of sorcerers.

"And who would your leader choose?" Arthur questioned.

Accolon gave them both a mildly wide eyed look, as if the answer should be obvious. "Why there is only one person the young lord Mordred believes capable," he said. "The Lady Morgana, a powerful seer and witch with royal blood running in her veins."

Arthur barked a laugh. Always Morgana. Morgause had wanted Morgana on the throne and so did Mordred. No one demanded he give his throne to Merlin, despite his apparently legendary status, perhaps because Arthur had claimed him as part of the prophesy surrounding his reign.

"Morgana has noble blood," Arthur said, "but it isn't a king's blood. Why are you so insistent that she is the one to rule?"

Now Accolon gave Arthur a look he wasn't used to - as if the slightly older gentleman thought he was slow in the head.

"Of course she does. The Pendragon bloodline runs within her as it does in you. Uther Pendragon fathered you both," he announced. "And she will be made queen of Albion or all of Camelot will face the consequences."

While Arthur's mind was reeling, attempting to reconcile the sudden fact that the woman he had always considered a sister was _actually_ his sister with what he'd always known to be true, Merlin continued the conversation with their guest.

"And what are the consequences?" he asked, his deeper voice echoing in the hall.

Accolon looked him directly in the eyes, expression hateful toward the sorcerer who willingly stood by Arthur's side. "We all have magic. If you do not comply, we will raze Camelot to the ground and build a new shining capital upon its ruins. You have three days to leave before we come for the throne."

Without waiting for any response from either man, Accolon turned and walked from the room with the air of a man who had done everything he was meant to, or perhaps more.

...

...

"Morgana!" the king shouted as he banged on her door.

Merlin rolled his eyes. "Could you be any louder?" he quipped.

Arthur glared at the door for just a moment, and then it opened to reveal Morgana herself standing on the other side.

"What in Albion are you doing?" she snapped. "The kingdom had better be in danger for that level of racket."

It seemed Arthur, for all his rushing up here and banging, had frozen stiff beside Merlin. The dark haired man nodded for him.

"A sorcerer came and demanded Arthur give up the throne because magic users had decided he wasn't fit to rule and told us that their leader wanted you on the throne," he informed her quickly.

Morgana blinked at him for a few seconds. Then she let out an aggravated sigh and let them in. As the door shut behind the two men she said, "You know, I once had aspirations of ruling the kingdom. Now I wish everyone would stop trying to make them come true. I'm tired of everyone trying to replace Arthur with me. It only causes trouble."

Merlin grinned. "Well, personally, I thought the attempts would stop now that Morgause is gone," he paused, "but I forgot you have another fan."

The dark haired lady lifted a curious eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

"Mordred."

Now Merlin had two speechless royals on his hands.

"The visitor, Accolon, said that their leader was 'the young lord Mordred' and that he had personally chosen you for the throne," he continued. "I'm guessing he never forgave Arthur or I for the attack on the druid camp, so he doesn't believe Arthur really means it when he says magic users aren't to be persecuted anymore. And he remembers your time together as well, how kind you were to him."

Morgana walked over to her vanity table and tapped the desktop thoughtfully, staring down at the wood grain. "I never thought we would be on opposing sides," she murmured. "Even when I considered leaving Camelot to go live with the druids, it never really occurred to me to turn against Camelot. Not until Morgause appeared did I begin to believe that was the only way. So to think Mordred would-"

"You were going to leave and live with the druids?" Arthur piped up suddenly.

Morgana turned to look at him, her gaze unconcerned. "Yes," she nodded. "When I began to realize that my dreams were based in magic, I feared for my life. I thought perhaps leaving would be the best idea. Obviously, my plans were interrupted and I didn't go, but I did try."

"You would have gone, even though you are a Pendragon?" Arthur asked, his voice harder than a moment ago. It wasn't an accusation, not quite, but it clearly displayed both his confusion and his aggravation that he had to learn about it through an enemy sorcerer.

As for Morgana, she was shocked. Her eyes widened for a few long moments as she collected her thoughts. Then, in an oddly shy move, she lowered her gaze to the ground.

"At the time, I didn't know I was Uther's daughter," she said quietly.

Arthur jerked, even though he had expected a similar response. "So when I called you sister, or referred to myself as your brother-"

Morgana smiled. "You weren't lying, even though the way you meant it wasn't the truth. If it makes you feel better, Arthur, I only learned about our familial connection shortly before you convinced me to leave Morgause."

There was a moment of quiet where brother and sister stared at each other. Morgana wore a patient expression while Arthur looked as though he were seeing Morgana for the first time. After a full minute, Arthur took the three steps between them and wrapped Morgana in a hug, surprising both magic users in the room. Arthur wasn't big on hugs.

"I'm sorry," Arthur said.

"For what?" Morgana asked, unsure of whether to hug him in return or not.

Arthur shrugged. "For not being your brother when it would have mattered most, I suppose."

Now Morgana laughed once and used her hands to grab Arthur's shoulders and peel him off her. He went willingly.

"Arthur, you have been exactly who and what you are for every moment of my life. You were always my sibling when I needed you to be," she assured him with a light lilt to her voice and a teasing glint to her eyes. "There's no need to be overly sentimental."

Merlin cleared his throat to remind them that he was in the room. "This means I've been surrounded by Pendragons on all sides for years," he quipped. "There was never any chance of escape for me."

Morgana gave him a disbelieving look. "As if you ever really wanted to leave."

And Merlin had to give her that. Even when Arthur had been at his worst, Merlin hadn't truly ever considered leaving. The only time it really crossed his mind was when Freya had been in town. Other than that, nothing had ever been worth enough or bad enough to make him take one step outside of Camelot without Arthur at his side or awaiting his return. Not even Arthur's belligerent attitude or lack of proper shows of affection bothered Merlin for long.

He shook his head, as much to get himself back on subject as to erase the hint of bitterness that was climbing up his throat that Morgana got a hug from Arthur while Merlin had never felt that brand of comfort from his king.

"Mordred's got men, sorcerers, ready to attack Camelot," he said, moving the conversation back on subject. "We'll need all the magic on our side that we can get."

In all this time, Morgana had never revealed to anyone that she was magic, not even since Arthur lifted the ban or appointed Merlin his Court Sorcerer. It was easy to forget no one else knew since the three of them did, and Luke and Gaius - though it was possible a guard or two knew, they never said a word. But if Morgana fought at Merlin's side in three days, her secret would be out. The entire city, the entire kingdom, would know she had magic.

Morgana nodded, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. "I'll work with Luke and Gaius on possible spells and strategies the sorcerers might use, and I'll make some potions for the knights to take that will increase their natural abilities a bit, but...I'm not sure if I'm ready to let everyone see me as I am yet."

Arthur lightly and briefly touched her arm, drawing her attention from Merlin.

"Your assistance is much appreciated, Morgana. Anything you can do is enough."

Morgana snorted at his soft tone and smacked him in the arm, earning a petulant frown. "I said don't get sentimental. I can still beat you with a sword. I don't need you to treat me like a flower now that you know we're related."

Now the king looked like he'd been slapped. "I-You-That's-You cannot beat me with a sword!" he exclaimed. "I am the greatest warrior in all of Camelot."

"Shame, isn't it?"

Merlin would've chuckled at their familiar banter except that he had just realized that Arthur hadn't looked at him or spoken to him at all since they nodded greetings to each other in the throne room. What had he done?

...

...

For the next three days, Merlin stayed holed up in Gaius's chambers reading every magic text he could find in the city. Morgana worked with Luke, teaching him how to make the strength enhancing potions and one to increase his own magic abilities for a short time - though she warned that it would exhaust him once the effects wore off. Gaius prepared bandages and salves and creams and medicines for those who would be injured in the coming battle.

Arthur didn't come to the tower chambers. Morgana told Merlin he was talking strategy with his knights and having meetings with his council, but Merlin never saw him. There was something wrong about that, but they didn't have time to fix it right now. Still, the sudden cold distance made Merlin feel hollow, as if part of him was missing.

He wanted to go directly to Arthur, impending battle or not, and demand to know what had changed. Arthur had been Merlin's friend for years, he had been Arthur's confidant and consul. They had spent the _Festival of Love_ together, for _gods_ _sakes_. Merlin had thought they were on a path together, the one Miss Dwynwen had spoken of when she foretold Merlin's love life even. Now Arthur was acting like Merlin didn't exist and Merlin thought it probably hurt more than being beheaded would. What had gone wrong?!

After the battle. Merlin would confront Arthur after the battle. The battle mattered more right now. He had to focus.

During the second morning, Merlin found the spell he had wanted. It would create a barrier equal in strength to the sorcerer who cast it, and the stronger the caster the bigger the barrier could become. The downsides to the spell was that if the barrier was breeched, the caster would be too weak to defend themselves from any other attack, and that any other spells he used would be weaker while the barrier existed. But if Merlin was strong enough, if the spell was done just right, he could save so many lives.

He spent the remaining time before the battle practicing making small barriers around his bed or discarded clothing. By the time the sun had begun to set on the third day and the warning bells began to ring, Merlin thought he had it down pretty well. He was as ready as he would ever be.

...

...

"My lady?" Gwen called as she knocked on Morgana's chamber door and entered the room. Morgana was standing by the window in a pose reminiscent of Arthur's only days before. "You sent for me?"

Morgana nodded and turned from the fading light to wander into the middle of the room. "Arthur has been king for many months now," she started, running her hand along the post at the end of her bed. "You are aware that an army of sorcerers is on its way here in an attempt to overthrow him?"

A nod. "Yes." Gwen closed the door softly, understanding that whatever Morgana wanted to talk about was serious and best kept in private. "The knights have been training tirelessly and I haven't seen Merlin in days."

"Merlin, yes, exactly," Morgana said with a small smile, relief lightly dusting her expression like the perfect blush. "How much do you know about what Merlin has been doing lately?"

Gwen had wondered, months ago now, how much Morgana knew about Merlin and his magic. Arthur had told her to ask Morgana about it, but she had been uncertain how to broach the subject. At first, she had wanted to fully come to terms with Merlin's magic before she brought it up to anyone else so that she didn't say something she didn't mean in a fit of nerves. It had taken a trip to pick flowers for Morgana, where Merlin had made flowers bloom all around her, for Gwen to stop flinching whenever he moved unexpectedly.

It wasn't until Merlin was named Court Sorcerer that Morgana admitted she'd already known about his magic. Gwen wasn't upset with her, though Morgana had obviously felt guilty about keeping it hidden from her best friend, because she had known and hadn't told Morgana either. But still, they rarely talked about it, unless Merlin had done something specifically noticeable with his magic, like the rings for the festival or training Luke or something of the like.

"He's...doing something with magic, I would assume," Gwen said slowly, not sure where her friend was going with this.

Morgana nodded. "He's looking for ways to better defend the king and the city," she said. "But while he's been doing that, others have also been using magic to prepare as well. Gaius is preparing medical supplies with a charm to encourage healing and prevent diseases. Luke is busy making potions to increase the strength of the knights temporarily. But Merlin is busy with his own business and he's never been very good at potions in any case, and Gaius' magic is old and weak from disuse. So..." Morgana took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself before continuing. "I've been helping him in their stead."

For a few moments, Gwen just stared at her. She seemed to be implying that she had magic, that she knew how to mix potions, that she was a sorceress. The stiff way she held herself and the way her eyes were fixed on Gwen's shoulder instead of her face told Gwen all she needed to know about Morgana's nerves.

But Gwen had been working for Morgana since they were both children. Morgana should really know better.

"You first asked me to stay in the antechamber overnight when we were thirteen," Gwen stated simply. The strange topic was enough to make Morgana actually look at her. "We stayed up far too late. I brushed your hair until it felt like silk and you braided flowers into my curls. You even let me try on one of your gowns, though I was terrified Uther would come in at any moment. In the end we only went to bed because you couldn't keep your eyes open and fell asleep mid-complaint about being told you couldn't practice swordsmanship anymore."

Gwen walked until she was only two steps from Morgana, at the other end of the foot of the bed. She mimicked Morgana by putting her hand on the post, then met the lady's eyes.

"I had barely laid my head down when you started screaming," she continued. "It was the first time you had a nightmare that wasn't about your father. And you were so frightened that you told me all about the man in red who was speared by a boar. Two days later, one of the squires was killed during a hunting party, and you made yourself sick by not eating or sleeping for days."

Morgana gave a bitter smile. "Uther ordered Gaius to give me sleeping droughts after I collapsed in the hallway." She shook her head. "About all that. Gwen-"

"I've been with you for years and you've had countless nightmares since that night," Gwen interrupted, only feeling mildly guilty about it. "I thought for awhile that you were cursed by some evil sorcerer. For a short time I entertained the idea that you were a banshee, able to sense death and chaos before it happened. But I didn't say anything, to anyone, because I feared what the king would do to you."

"Gwen," Morgana said softly, her gaze warm. She made to reach out, but stopped herself, and Gwen frowned.

"Morgana. What I mean is, if my second guess was closer to the truth...If your dreams are prophetic and you have magic, I don't care," Gwen assured her, taking Morgana's hand in both of her own. "It hasn't corrupted you. You aren't evil. You are my friend, as you always have been. All this means is that you have a special gift, just like Merlin."

A tear slid down Morgana's cheek. "Oh, Gwen," she whispered before pulling the servant to her in a fierce hug. "If only I were as brave as you."

This didn't feel like bravery, but Gwen didn't contest it. She wrapped her arms tight around Morgana in return. "You are," she whispered into dark hair. "You're one of the bravest people I know."

...

...

Merlin met the troops outside of Camelot's walls. They crossed the drawbridge and stopped, ready to face the oncoming threat where no civilians could be hurt. A knight near Merlin finished drinking a vile looking potion and tossed the bottle into the moat with a grimace. Arthur was down the line of men, speaking to a few in hurried but not worried words. It was that confidence that had gotten his men through many battles with few casualties. Today, hopefully Merlin could prevent any at all.

At the crest of the hill in the distance, Merlin saw them. At least eighty cloaked figures looking down on them. They were all shapes and sizes, but Merlin knew the moment his eyes landed on Mordred. It felt as though they were standing face to face, looking into each other's eyes.

_We meet again, Emrys._

_Don't do this, Mordred._

_Try and stop me._

"So I assume you have some sort of plan?" Merlin jerked his head to the side, away from the now approaching enemies, to see Morgana standing at his side. She wore her battle clothes - pants, tunic, armor, and chainmail, with her hair pulled back and braided out of the way and her sword in hand. She lifted her lips in a small smirk. "Don't make me doubt myself now, great sorcerer. Tell me your plan."

With a shaky nod, Merlin lifted his gaze toward the city walls. "Keep them out."

Morgana raised an eyebrow at him, as if asking 'That's it?' Merlin took three steps away from Camelot, placing himself in front of every knight and guard that had come out to fight on the ground. Then he held his hands up in front of himself and took a deep breath.

"Bewerian eac min sáwol."

A translucent white light began to spill from Merlin's hands. It sprawled outward in every direction, to the sides and up and down. The knights jumped back as it raced by bare inches from their noses. The light arched over Camelot and curved around its walls. In only a few moments, the mostly see through substance had created a dome around the entire capital city and everyone inside.

Arthur jogged over just as Merlin pulled his hands away from the product of his spell. "What is that?" he asked.

The situation was too tense now for Merlin to properly appreciate that the king had spoken to him for the first time in days. "A shield," he replied. "It'll keep all attacking forces out, but let Camelot's soldiers and weapons pass freely."

It had been the perfect spell because everything about the spell was based on the will and strength of the caster. Without changing a single word of the incantation, the caster could affect the outcome of the spell in whatever way would best serve them.

Arthur wore that expression he sometimes got when he was especially proud of something Merlin had done. Still quietly beaming, he turned to his sister. "And you've decided to fight as well?"

Morgana nodded and twirled her sword. "I figured you boys could use all the help you could get." Then she frowned. "I also feel partly responsible for what Mordred has become. It was me that kept going to the druids, and thus kept bringing Uther's wrath upon them."

Merlin opened his mouth to speak, to comfort her - after all it was partly Merlin's fault as well, but instead he shuddered and fell to his knees when a blast of bright magic crackled against the shield, jumping across it like lightning. "Ahhh," he hissed out. The sensation of the spell skittered across his skin and left him tingling in every unpleasant way.

"Merlin?" Arthur gasped, looking conflicted between kneeling by his friend or dealing with the fact that the battle had apparently begun.

Merlin shook his head. "I'm fine. Go lead your men."

With a hesitant nod, Arthur hurried off to give orders. Morgana helped Merlin stand back up. She didn't look pleased.

"Merlin, this shield-"

"Yes," Merlin cut her off. "The shield is me. And it'll hold as long as I do." Morgana's frown deepened and Merlin shook his head. "It's fine. I'm stronger since the phoenix brought me back. I can handle it. Focus on defeating them and it'll be fine." Like with the physical wounds from Gaius' chambers, the pain was already gone.

For a few moments, Morgana seemed to battle with herself. Then she asked, "Where's Luke?"

Merlin motioned off down the row to the other end of the knights, where Luke was standing by Gareth, who seemed to be giving the young magic user a pep talk. Another spell crashed into the shield and Morgana grabbed Merlin by the shoulders when he wobbled. He stood straight again just in time for the next attack, this time a blast of fire from several sorcerers at once. Merlin couldn't hear what the knights' reactions to the spells were because every time one hit, it felt like his whole world was upended, every one of his senses reeling.

Maybe this hadn't been the perfect spell after all.

The next thing he was aware of, strong hands were on his arms and Arthur was looking directly into his eyes. "Merlin."

"Arthur." Merlin shook his head. "Sorry. Their spells are stronger than I thought they'd be."

The king's eyebrows came together. "Your shield is holding. They and their spells are stuck outside."

Merlin heard a small shout and glanced over to see a hooded figure fall down, an arrow sticking from their shoulder. The enemy sorcerers were much closer than the last time Merlin had looked, only a hundred steps from the barrier. Another sorcerer knelt by their fallen friend and removed the arrow and began a healing spell while dozens of others kept walking and casting at the same time, sending spell after spell at the nearly invisible barrier between them and the city they wanted to control.

Looking at the battlements, Merlin saw archers notching arrows and shooting them past the barrier and toward the sorcerers. Most of them missed due to the sorcerers knocking the arrows out of the sky once they were outside the barrier, but a few found their marks. All down the line, the knights held their shields up and their swords ready, prepared to fight and simply waiting on Arthur's signal.

When the sorcerers were only about thirty feet away, Arthur gave a shout to the battlements. The tips of the arrows held fire now as they flew toward the enemies. So close to the barrier, more attacks were landing because there wasn't as much time for the enemy sorcerers to deflect them once they left the barrier.

The sorcerers stopped advancing, even backed up a few feet. Mordred barely moved but Merlin knew he was giving orders directly to his followers' minds. They all began casting spells, some stronger than others, and flinging them at the barrier. Roots sprung from the ground to claw at the base of it, wind blew hard toward the city gates, rocks and sticks and boulders hurtled themselves at the knights, tongues of flame and ice crashed into the barrier and scattered. And every single one felt like a physical punch or cut or burn to Merlin's skin. Only through force of will did Merlin remain standing.

Even as a spell like a sword hit the shield, feeling like a knife in Merlin's gut, he turned to face the on comers. One of Arthur's hands fell away, but the other stayed on Merlin's shoulder. Mordred was taking slow and measured steps straight toward Merlin now, arrows whizzing past him seeming not to bother him at all. He smirked when he saw Merlin looking.

Merlin knew Mordred's plan then, as if the boy had said it aloud. Every attack on the barrier hurt Merlin like an actual wound in his body. Every strike weakened him, and with him the barrier. When the barrier broke, it would be because Merlin was too weak to keep it up, because Merlin would be too weak to do anything but wait for death.

Luke was progressing in his training, and even now was sending rocks and plants and short bursts of flame hurtling back toward the nearest enemy from his place behind the shield. Still, he was no match for close to one hundred trained and angry sorcerers, and especially not for Mordred. Morgana could probably handle a good number of these sorcerers with her strength, but she wouldn't fight Mordred - not willingly and not with the force it would take to defeat him. Merlin would have to face him, or watch him destroy everything they had all worked so hard for, everything and everyone Merlin held dear.

A horrible image began to carve itself into Merlin's head: every knight of Camelot lying dead on the field outside the city walls, the houses and shops inside blown to rubble, the castle on fire and its towers in ruins. There would be an executioner's block for Gwen and Gaius and Luke, and all those who worked in the royal household. Arthur would burn like so many witches, of this Merlin was certain. And Merlin would be forced to watch it all happen - to see his king, his destiny, his other half choke on smoke and struggle to get free and burn from the feet up, slowly and agonizingly - unable to do anything to help him.

The warm hand on his shoulder tightened its grip and dragged Merlin out of his awful vision. Four of the enemy sorcerers were now on the ground with arrows hooked in their body or clothing, one of them wasn't moving to put out the flames or regain his footing. Still, so many remained against them.

They could not lose this battle. Merlin wouldn't allow it. He would face Mordred, leaving the others to the knights, Luke, and Morgana. They would fight and Merlin had to either kill him or persuade him to stop this madness. Merlin had to drive these people away, convince them that Camelot deserved to stand as it was. He had to get through to Mordred, make him see the good in Arthur that Merlin saw shining every day.

"Arthur," Merlin croaked out, and was surprised by the roughness of his own voice. He shuddered against the onslaught of spells even as he lifted his eyes to the blond man beside him.

The king looked back at him, concern freely visible on his face at Merlin's tone. Merlin took a moment to just stare at him. Cuts didn't hurt Merlin anymore, but magic might. If he faced these sorcerers head on, it was possible he would never see Arthur again.

Shaking his head, Merlin took a shaky step forward and grabbed Arthur around the back of the neck. There was half a second where Arthur's eyes were all Merlin could see as their foreheads brushed together. Then Merlin crashed his lips into Arthur's, giving him a desperate kiss. The first he had ever had the courage for.

Pulling away, Merlin quickly turned and ran through the barrier before he could change his mind and before Arthur could react to the kiss. It felt weird to pass through a barrier made of his own life force, and even once he'd left its safety he could still feel every attack as it landed, but he would not slow down.

Running into battle was something Merlin was used to, but not when he was leading the charge. It was several seconds before he heard the knights rushing in behind him, their armor clanking and Arthur barking orders.

Merlin ran for Mordred but another sorcerer got in his way. Blue fire leapt at him and Merlin raised his arm with a smaller, brief shielding spell as he barreled through it. He could feel the heat licking around the edges of the shield, pushing to get through to his skin. Punching someone was also not something Merlin was used to but he did it - landing his fist solidly on the other man's cheek and knocking him to the ground.

_Emrys!_

Merlin spun around and found Mordred dodging a knight's blade. Even as he skittered away from the man in armor, Mordred glanced Merlin's way.

 _Mordred, you have to stop this,_ Merlin said, not caring that his mental voice sounded a bit desperate. _You have to tell them all to stop, before it's too late._

Another sorcerer came to Mordred's side to face the knight and the smaller male got away. Mordred rushed at Merlin with a glare.

 _And why should I?_ he demanded, his magic hitting Merlin with the force of a rampaging griffin, though Merlin held his ground.

 _Because you're wrong._ Merlin panted, his chest feeling tight as if something were squeezing him around the middle. _Arthur is not the enemy._

Mordred stopped ten feet from Merlin. A knight was headed directly for him but again another sorcerer distracted them. Eyes flashing gold, Mordred send a tongue of flame at Merlin. Merlin caught it in his hands and threw it back at Mordred, faster and stronger than he'd received it. The small wizard barely got out of the way in time.

 _You are both the enemy!_ Mordred shouted at him. _He and his father have killed thousands of us, beginning with the purge and continuing for over twenty years. They persecute our kind as if it were a sport. And you support them through every wicked deed. You are not worthy of your legend._

Merlin dodged an attack that cut a nearby boulder to shreds. His heart pounded heavily in his chest at the sight. Unable to help it, Merlin cast his gaze around for Arthur's blond hair.

_No._

There was Luke, ducking and rolling around a tall sorcerer, tying the man's hands together behind his back and his legs together with magic, quick as a squirrel. And Gwaine fighting back to back with Lancelot, shielding against some spells and pulling each other out of the way of others. Gareth and Kay and Luned were advancing on a group of sorcerers who looked slightly out of their depth, their cloaks in disarray and hoods off. Urien was at Morgana's side, eyes wide either from how she threw an enemy - Accolon - backward without a word or from the way she fluidly stuck her blade into Accolon's chest as he attempted to cast a spell in return. Merlin saw Pelleas and Lionel, Breunor and Gaheris, Tor and Bedivere, Dinadan and Lucan, all fighting while arrows continued to fly from the battlements. Where was Arthur?

There. Blond hair glinted like fire in the dying sun. Arthur was flanked by Bors, Geraint, Tristan, and Pellinore. They looked ruffled but unharmed. There was a sorcerer on the ground in front of Arthur with their hands in the air in surrender. Arthur nodded and said something to Pellinore, then hurried off with the others while Pellinore bound the sorcerer's wrists.

 _No, Arthur is not like that_. Merlin turned his gaze back on his young opponent. _He was a spoiled prince when I first met him but he's changed. He's stepped out from the shadow of his father to become his own kind of king, one who protects everyone!_

Mordred shook his head and Merlin was flung to the side. He landed at the feet of Sir Griflet, his long black hair pulled back but looking messy and windblown, his armor scuffed and marred darkly in several places.

"Merlin!" Griflet gasped, quickly helping him to his feet. "Are you alright?"

Merlin nodded just as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Whatever hit them was hot like fire but didn't burn. Griflet gasped as they were both knocked to the ground again. While the attack barely touched Merlin, the not-fire was crawling up Griflet's arms. His arms almost appeared to be turning to stone.

"Mordred!" Merlin shouted, turning around without standing and throwing a blast of magic at the young man.

Focused on the knight, Mordred didn't have time to defend himself and was thrown backwards. Immediately, Griflet stopped gasping and Merlin watched as the spell left his skin. Griflet stretched and flexed his arm and hand, then clapped Merlin on the shoulder in thanks.

"Go," Merlin told him. "I'll handle him."

"You're sure?" Griflet asked, pushing hair out of his face.

A nod. "Help Bedivere and the others."

As Griflet hurried off, Merlin turned all his attention back to Mordred, who was regaining his feet.

 _Mordred, Arthur's learned so much since you last saw him._ Merlin tried again. _He cares about all the people of Camelot, magic users included, and wants them all to prosper. He is nothing like his father._

 _And I'm meant to believe you, am I?_ Mordred demanded. _You who so readily follow your king? Blind to his faults?_

"Arthur is a good man," Merlin said aloud, his gaze hard. "I will stand by his side until the day I die."

"Then die!" Mordred shouted angrily, sounding more like a petulant child than ever.

The younger man's eyes flashed gold and something like lightning shot from his hands. It weaved around a fleeing knight between them and crashed into Merlin despite the shielding spell he spoke. Merlin couldn't help but scream, the pain excruciating. He barely felt the earth beneath him when he fell. Jolts of electricity jumped through his body, making him twitch and shiver. This was what had first hit his barrier, he was certain of it.

When the world came back into focus and he could hear the crashes and explosions of battle around him once more, the sun was mostly set and someone was standing over him. Even from behind it was clear to Merlin that the person was Arthur.

"You will not lay a hand nor spell on him," Arthur was saying, his sword held up between them, ready to strike.

Mordred shook his head with a bittersweet smirk. He looked shaken but trying to hide it. "I don't need to. He's done." He motioned numbly to where Merlin's shield no longer protected the city. "All that remains in my way is you."

At least he sounded unsure now, Merlin supposed. Still, if Mordred wasn't going to stop this battle, then Merlin couldn't stay on the ground, despite how his limbs still felt like jelly. That waver in Mordred's voice meant Merlin was getting through to him. It must.

"Bindan," Mordred said with a faint wave of his hand.

Excalibur clattered to the ground while Arthur's arms and legs were pulled tight, as if the king were bound by strong rope all over. Arthur couldn't even struggle. Merlin got his elbows planted in the dirt and began to push himself up as fast as he could.

Mordred held his hand out toward Arthur. "Gefyllan."

"No!" Merlin shouted simultaneously, managing to get into a crouch before the spell was fully cast.

Mordred's eyes widened at the same time that Merlin's flashed gold. The same electricity that had coursed through Merlin now shot out from him across the field. It wound around the knights, leaving pockets where the earth wasn't marred by the spell. Every enemy sorcerer still fighting jolted, shouted, and fell twitching to the earth just as Merlin had, even Mordred. Arthur stumbled when the spell holding him released, then turned around as Merlin began to cough harshly and knelt by his sorcerer's side.

Lamorak hurried over before a word could leave Arthur's mouth. "Your majesty."

"I'm fine," Arthur answered preemptively, looking around at the now quiet battlefield. "The battle?" His hand was cautious, Merlin would almost say fearful, as it touched Merlin's shaking shoulder.

Lamorak shook his head, his eyes wide and chest heaving from exertion and a cut on his cheek. "I know we lost two men on the field," he said. After a pause he hedged, "All the sorcerers are down. The battle appears to be over." He was looking at Merlin with wide eyes, full of awe and fear in equal parts. "We've won." He sounded surprised.

Arthur nodded as if that were the exact response he was expecting. "Get Gaius, and tell Morgana and Luke to get over here, and check every body. I want everyone still alive to receive help, do you understand? Enemy and ally alike." As Lamorak rushed off to do as ordered, Arthur helped Merlin sit upright. "Merlin?"

Merlin shook his head and gasped in air, fighting off the last of the coughs that had wracked his body. "I'll be alright," he promised.

Then he fell to his butt in the dirt and Arthur's free hand came up to land on Merlin's chest. The simple presence of it there made Merlin twice as aware of how fast and harsh his heartbeat felt in his own chest. He wondered if Arthur could feel it too.

"What did you do?" the king asked, voice quiet.

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted. "I think...This wouldn't be the first time my magic has used someone else's spell against them." Usually when he was desperate, but Arthur didn't need to know that.

Arthur looked like he didn't know whether to be impressed or upset at Merlin's lack of control. One more glance cast around at his knights and fallen enemies and he seemed to settle on impressed. "Well whatever you did, it saved our lives, and those of everyone in the city. So...," he trailed off and looked at the place where his hand touched Merlin instead.

He had probably meant to say 'good job' or something of that nature, but he never got the words out. In fact, he didn't say anything at all until Luke barreled over to them, a flurry of limbs and adrenaline, and then it was just to make Luke help Merlin walk. And just like that, Merlin remembered the strained silences between him and his king, and he hated it.

...

...

Griflet's arm was tense after the battle, as if the spell kept trying to make a comeback, and Merlin mixed him a cream to apply whenever the symptoms returned. It wasn't a perfect cure, but it would help. Luned had been caught in a fire spell that Lancelot had saved him from, leaving them both with mild burns. Gaius and Luke mixed the medicine for those wounds. Luned's armor had been burned and damaged beyond repair, but he had refused to remove even one link of mail. Gaius had needed to wait until the young man lost consciousness to finally pull the metal from his body and start the healing process.

Bors would have trouble walking for weeks due to the many wounds on his legs. Dinadan had made crass jokes the entire time Merlin helped Gaius clean and care for the gash in his side. It took a sleeping drought to stop his talking so the healing could really begin. Merlin felt bad for the lord, so recently made a knight and who knew how long it would be before he could train again or even ride a horse without pain.

They lost Gaheris. Breunor found him lying prone over the body of a woman sorcerer, his sword in her gut and her hand in his chest. Breunor hadn't spoken since, at least not to the knights. Six of the archers had lost their lives as well to far flung curses from the battlefield.

Everyone was covered in scratches and scrapes, but nothing remotely life threatening. None of Arthur's wounds would leave even a scar behind in a few days. For that, everyone was pleased. There was damage to his armor and chainmail that would require him to get new ones made, and he had a lot of bruising, but other than Mordred's final attack, nothing mortal was thrown his way. Knowing how close Arthur had come to death, Merlin was exhausted by his relief.

Of the eighty-seven sorcerers who had marched on Camelot, eight survived the magic that had bolted from Merlin on the battlefield. Seven of them were tended to by Gaius, Merlin, and Luke. Mordred was treated by Morgana specially.

At first they resisted the treatment, thinking they were meant to be tortured or publicly executed. Then, Arthur came to see them after they were bandaged and cared for to discuss their grievances with each one-on-one. After that, they spent a lot of time talking quietly among themselves and looking increasingly shamefaced whenever Arthur's name was mentioned or Merlin was in the room.

Merlin walked by the room where Mordred, the leader of these rebel sorcerers, was being kept, and peaked inside. Morgana spent a lot of time in this room with Mordred, even when it wasn't time to make him drink a potion or check his wounds. Merlin suspected she was doing much the same as Arthur was with the others. As expected, she was in there even now.

From the door, Merlin could see Mordred's bare chest, not covered by a shirt or a cover. There were lines of dark blue dashed across his skin, just like the other sorcerers - the mark of the lightning touching them. Merlin had checked himself over at least half a dozen times. His skin was as pale as ever. Gaius had given Merlin a look when checking him for wounds after the battle, but he had seemed preoccupied and instead of asking had left to take Luned some more salve for his burns.

"Do you believe the king?"

Merlin was jerked from his thoughts at the soft sound of Mordred's voice. Now that they weren't in battle, Merlin realized how different Mordred was from the last time they had met. Mordred was just about Luke's age, maybe a year younger, but they were negatives of each other. Mordred with dark hair and bright eyes, Luke with light hair and dark eyes. He wondered if that meant anything.

"About what, Mordred?" Morgana asked, her voice kinder than usual, as it always was with Mordred.

Mordred turned his head on the bed where he lay so that he could look Morgana in the eyes. "About magic."

For a moment, Morgana didn't answer. Then she smiled. "I believe Arthur will do everything he can to create a kingdom where magic users are treated equally to those without magic."

After several seconds of watching Morgana's face for a hint of a lie, Mordred looked at the ceiling. "How can you trust him?" He sounded so confused and lost that Merlin couldn't help but think of how utterly _young_ he was.

Morgana took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Her next smile was sad. She placed her hand in Mordred's hair and gently pet him. Mordred shut his eyes.

"Because I have dreamt it," she revealed. "As time passes, more and more of my visions are of his future kingdom. I only wish I could show them to you, so you could understand."

Now Mordred let out a breath. "You've shown me enough," he whispered. When he opened his eyes, Merlin caught a glimpse of gold before his irises were pale blue once more. "Thank you, Morgana."

Morgana let out a curious sound. "For what?"

Mordred gave the best shrug he could manage while lying down and winced. "For...helping me."

The Lady gave him a brief hug, careful not to touch the blue marks on his skin. "Always."

Merlin walked away.

There had to be some way to help Mordred. He had been a sweet child who liked Merlin and trusted Arthur. They were why he had changed, because they kept making the wrong decisions. There had to be something they could do to show him they were doing their best for the good of all of Albion.

...

...

"You're leaving?!"

Morgana nodded and Arthur roughly rubbed his face with his hands.

"Mordred and those remaining that follow him cannot stay in Camelot," she reasoned. "He's young, he's trying to find his way in this world. He trusts me. I would like to go with them, to try and do for him what you and Merlin did for me."

Arthur looked up at her, standing near the door to his bedroom. He didn't speak, but Morgana knew what he was asking.

"You showed me a better future and gave me the support I needed for a better present," she said. "You trusted me with your city, your kingdom, with the people you care about." Arthur blushed and Morgana couldn't help but smirk. "Merlin didn't question me when I used magic or had him use magic in the castle, with spells he didn't understand until they were cast. Even training Luke has been a blessing I did not expect."

When Morgana stopped speaking, Arthur turned and walked stiffly to the window. His shoulders were tense and he stood straight. It wasn't an attitude Morgana was proud to have brought upon him.

"I need to go, Arthur."

He turned his head slightly over his shoulder but did not actually look at her.

"Technically I don't need your permission to leave. I'm only telling you about it out of courtesy because you're family. But...I also want your blessing," Morgana admitted, which got her brother to face her once more.

For what felt like a lifetime, they simply stared at each other. Morgana considered how much Arthur had grown. They had been children together and she had watched him become a spoiled brat like all the other princes, but with this warm heart that ached for the people that he never showed to anyone. Merlin had helped Arthur come out of his father's shadow and into his own. She was proud to call him brother, and that was new for her.

She would miss him when she was gone. Gwen and Merlin too. Luke as well. And Sir Urien, who had so boldly approached her at the Spring Festival. Morgana forced herself to think of other things to avoid blushing under her brother's gaze.

Arthur walked over to her then and placed his hands on her shoulders, two comforting weights. "You will always have a home here in Camelot," he promised her.

Morgana nodded and smiled. "Thank you, Arthur."

...

...

Gwen stood at Merlin's side a few days later while the sorcerers were preparing to go. As a sign of good faith, Arthur had given them supplies for their trip, three horses, and a small pouch of coins. Morgana would take her own steed as well and whatever of hers she wanted. A stable boy was strapping her saddlebags more securely to her mount while she said goodbye to her friends.

"Don't look so glum, Gwen," Morgana chastised, though she didn't look very chipper herself. Mordred stood quietly a step behind her, his still bandaged body covered entirely by his cloak but the hood down.

Gwen shook her head. "It just seems so sudden. A few days ago we were talking about your magic and now you're leaving." She rubbed her dry eyes and frowned.

Morgana stepped forward and hugged her. "You will always be a dear friend of mine, Gwen. I'll send you letters."

"You'd better," Gwen agreed.

They pulled away and Morgana turned to Merlin. "Good luck with him," she said.

Merlin gave a slight grin. "Thanks. I think I'll need it."

Now Morgana laughed. "Oh, don't I know it. Remember, I grew up with him." Her expression turned pensive. "And...whatever changed in that temple," she didn't miss how he tensed, "I'm sure you'll handle it well, Merlin. You always do your best."

She gave him a hug as well, though not as tight or as long as the one she'd given Gwen. Gwen stepped forward for a second embrace as soon as Morgana let him go. Then the stable boy announced the horse was ready and Morgana turned around to inspect and thank him.

Mordred was staring at Merlin, a calculating look in his pale eyes. Merlin met his gaze and tried his best to think only good thoughts about the boy.

"Say good-bye to Luke," Mordred said, voice quiet. "From me."

Merlin's eyes widened. "You know Luke?"

A shake of the head. "He delivered some medicine. Once."

From the expression on Mordred's face and Merlin's knowledge of Luke, Merlin doubted it had been quite so simple. Luke might have yelled at him or, in the other direction, asked him a million questions about spells he'd seen cast in battle. Merlin wasn't sure he liked the idea of Luke getting to know Mordred, at least while Mordred was still an enemy of Camelot.

"You've changed."

Merlin blinked rapidly in surprise. Had he? He wasn't as naive as he'd once been, but Merlin liked to think whatever changes he'd gone through until now had been mostly positive ones. "So have you," he said.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then the small boy darted forward and grabbed Merlin around the waist. It was an unexpected hug but Merlin was quick to return it. Morgana smiled at them. It made Merlin wonder what she had said to Mordred in all that time spent alone as he healed.

_Good luck to you, Emrys._

The tone was almost fond, and Merlin was shocked at how happy he was about it. He hadn't heard anything resembling kindness from Mordred in so long. Merlin knelt down to look Mordred in the eyes, his hands on the boy's shoulders. _Hopefully I will see you again soon, as allies._

 _Morgana believes so._ Mordred gave him an uncertain up quirk of lips and moved back to stand by Morgana. She helped lift him onto the horse and then swung up behind him.

"Don't worry, Merlin," she teased. "We'll take care of each other."

Merlin nodded. "I know. I trust you both." Well, with each other, at least. Still, Mordred seemed shocked at the statement so Merlin was glad he hadn't added the last bit.

Just as Morgana began to turn the horse and trot away, Mordred turned his head to look at Merlin. _If the king does not treat you well, I will never forgive him._ He didn't seem to care that Merlin's cheeks turned as red as tomatoes, and in fact may have enjoyed it if the smirk on his face was any indication.

Merlin stood there on the steps with Gwen, watching them until the horses were long out of sight. Then Gwen lightly squeezed his free arm and headed up the steps and back into the castle. Morgana leaving would hurt Gwen as much, if not more, than it hurt Merlin. He didn't doubt that she would be comforted by the other servants, not to mention Lancelot. And if she needed them, Merlin and Arthur would be there as well.

A soft 'ki' broke the silent moment he'd been caught in and Merlin raised his arm for Archimedes to land on without even thinking about it.

"Strange boy gone?" Archimedes asked. "And the others?" He'd been avoiding Gaius's chambers since the battle, steering far clear of the injured sorcerers inside.

A nod and a pet of the bird's feathers. "But they'll be back. Some day."

Archimedes nuzzled against Merlin's neck and gave a low, comforting sound. By now the falcon understood that goodbyes were one of Merlin's least favorite things. Even if Mordred frightened him, Archimedes was sad to see him leave because it made Merlin sad.

Merlin didn't even flinch when he heard, "You know, I get the feeling you and that boy can speak without words, as if you were reading each other's minds," and Arthur came to stand beside him. The king glanced at him sideways. "But that would be impossible, right?"

Merlin gave a grin, as much in teasing response as in joy that Arthur was speaking to him. Perhaps time and the battle were exactly what Arthur needed. "It might be possible. Who knows?"

Arthur snorted. "I suppose that's an answer."

They stood for a few moments, watching the last straggler of the enemy sorcerers hurry to follow after Morgana and Mordred. Then the courtyard was full of only the usual castle workers, going about their days as if nothing as terrible as a battle had happened only a short while ago.

A sigh escaped the king. "Just when I thought I had my court just the way it was meant to be..."

"They'll come back someday. And you'll always have me," Merlin promised.

"Unless you go and sacrifice yourself again."

The sudden bitter tone of his voice had Merlin jolting even as Arthur turned and walked back up the stairs and away. Archimedes was dislodged from Merlin's shoulder when the wizard turned quickly to follow the king. He didn't follow them inside, just let out a confused 'ki' and landed on a nearby statue. Merlin trailed Arthur through the halls, calling his name but being ignored.

What was wrong? Arthur had been good just a moment ago and now he was angry. What had Merlin done? Why was Arthur acting this way? Was it the kiss? Merlin's stomach dropped faster than a dragon in free fall.

Arthur threw open the door to his chambers so hard and fast that Merlin barely had time to slip in behind him before it clattered off the wall and slammed shut again.

"Arthur-"

Sunlight from the window flashed over his blond hair as Arthur flipped around and knocked Merlin back into the door with a soft thud. His lips were on Merlin's in an instant, giving an angry but desperate kiss Merlin had never expected. All Merlin could do when Arthur finally pulled away was blink and pant.

"Do you realize that you _died_ right before my eyes?" the king asked, voice angry and face almost too close to look at. "Do you know what that felt like? To stand that close and yet be unable to do anything to stop it? I _lost you_ and you were right. there."

"Arthur-" Merlin tried again but Arthur slammed his hands against the wood of the door to cut him off.

"You ran out to face over six dozen sorcerers all on your own and you apologized before you did it," he snapped, eyes locked on Merlin's. "I thought you were going to die again, Merlin! That I would once again have to stand by and watch you slip away and be utterly powerless to stop it!"

Realizing all he had said and done, Arthur's face flushed a deep red and he turned away, covering his face with his hands as he moved over to the table by the window. Merlin stayed by the door. Silence reigned.

Since the battle, Merlin was certain that he couldn't die. Cutting himself had proved that mortal weapons had little effect on him and being hit by that fatal lightning spell but just standing right back up proved that magic had the same results. But Merlin needed to wait until he was alone to be able to come to terms with this change in himself. If he tried to think about it at the moment he would fall apart, and Arthur needed him right now.

Arthur had lost both of his parents, had them ripped from him in one way or another. He saw Morgause kill Merlin. He had just watched Morgana ride away from him, for an unknown length of time. All Merlin had thought about earlier had been that he couldn't let Arthur die. He had to do whatever it took to keep Arthur safe. He had imagined what would happen to Camelot, to Albion, to himself, if Arthur died.

He hadn't considered what would happen to Arthur if Merlin died. Some part of him had always assumed that Arthur would simply carry on with his life. He had Luke as his manservant, and until only a few minutes ago he had had Morgana to fill the void of Court Sorcerer. And even though Merlin had seen Gwen around town with Lancelot more often these days, part of him had still assumed that Arthur would be with her if Merlin was gone, or some other high born lady.

He had never thought that Arthur would be devastated if Merlin died. It had never crossed his mind. Looking at Arthur now - the king's head bowed and face covered, his shoulders hunched yet defensive - and remembering how Arthur had been behaving - as if Merlin wasn't there and he was angry at everyone, Merlin finally began to understand. Maybe...Maybe Arthur cared about Merlin just as much as Merlin cared about Arthur.

Walking quietly but quickly over to the blond, Merlin grabbed the king's wrists and pulled them away from his face. Arthur didn't look at him, instead turning his face toward the window, his cheeks still pink and shame written across his face as he scowled.

"Arthur," Merlin said. When Arthur still refused to look at him Merlin said, voice demanding attention, "Arthur, look at me."

When blue eyes met blue eyes, Arthur's were guarded like the Camelot vaults. Merlin frowned.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I should've talked to you before I left the shield, but there wasn't time and I couldn't think of any other way to keep you safe." Arthur frowned now too. "But listen to me, alright? If you never listen to me about anything else ever again, at least hear this. You. Will. Not. Lose. Me. Do you understand?" His voice was firm, not allowing even the slightest hint of doubt. "I swore you an oath, to be at your side forever. I'm not about to break that oath."

Arthur's eyes slid over Merlin's face, as if he were searching for a secret hidden within Merlin's words, a lie or a crack in the amour. "Oaths can be broken by death," he stated.

Merlin grinned with a tease. "Do you really think death could stop me?" In the back of his mind, he locked away the thoughts that said that no, death was nothing to him anymore. Another time. Another time.

After a moment, a small smirk began to lift the corner of Arthur's lips. Then he let out a soft chuckle and shut his eyes, his shoulders releasing much of their tension.

"No," the king agreed. "I don't suppose anything could stop you from doing something you really wanted to do. Not even I have that kind of power."

Except Merlin was certain that Arthur was the only force in all the Earth that did.

"So stop worrying about it," Merlin scolded. "We're both here. The sorcerers are gone and accept your rule, or will shortly if Morgana has any say in it. Soon, you will lead all of Albion into a golden age to be remembered for all of time. And I swear to you, I will be there to help you every step of the way. You won't be alone, Arthur."

With a great heaving sigh, the tension slid from Arthur's shoulders. He finally pulled his wrists free from Merlin's grasp and instead placed his hands on the slightly taller male's cheeks. With barely a pause, Arthur pressed one kiss to Merlin's lips, authoritative yet gentle, and then walked toward his wardrobe. Merlin's heart was buzzing.

"Call Luke for me, would you?" the king said, as if everything were immediately back to normal now. It was a very Arthur thing to do, no matter that the very nature of their relationship had just changed. "I want a bath tonight."

Merlin nodded, a small smile on his lips. He was happy with normal, it would make the transition easier at least. "Of course, _your highness_." He caught a glimpse of Arthur's returning smile at the tease.

Just as Merlin reached the door, Arthur's voice said, "Oh, and Merlin." He turned around to see Arthur looking at him with a strange mix of confidence and apprehension. "Once the bath is ready, I expect you'll be here to enjoy it with me." It was almost a question.

Merlin's face exploded in red and he barely managed a nod before tumbling out of the room to find his apprentice. Arthur had flipped from ignoring him to taking their relationship to a new level. He had always been a straightforward man who took risks, so it shouldn't be so shocking, but in personal matters it always was.

The bath ended up being one of the most intimate things Merlin had ever experienced, nothing sexual required. Arthur insisted that Merlin wash him and he wash Merlin, and every stroke of the bath cloth was tentative - and not because of Arthur's wounds. Arthur was asking permission with every touch, learning Merlin in a way he had never really allowed himself to before, and allowing himself to want this.

Merlin stayed with Arthur that night, and woke up to the king's face in his neck and Luke looking at them with growing horror from where he stood holding the freshly opened curtains. He groaned, letting his head fall deeper into the pillows.

"I swear, we're both fully dressed," he said to his apprentice, though he didn't look away from the canopy of the bed.

He could hear Luke swallow thickly. "That's...comforting...I guess?"

Arthur snorted into Merlin's shirt and opened his eyes to meet Merlin's drifting gaze. It felt like Merlin's life had just gotten indescribably more difficult at the same time it had become exceptionally easier.

...

...

**Next Time: The Impending Crisis**

_The Golden Age of Camelot was never going to come without a fight. The nobility that disagree with Arthur's methods gather, ready to take Albion back from the Pendragon family by any means necessary. When battle comes, Camelot's allies are few in number, so Merlin calls up some old friends to help._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Bewerian eac min sáwol = Protect with my soul
> 
> Bindan = Bind
> 
> Gefyllan = To cut down/destroy


	13. The Impending Crisis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Age of Camelot was never going to come without a fight. The nobility that disagree with Arthur's methods gather, ready to take Albion back from the Pendragon family by any means necessary. When battle comes, Camelot's allies are few in number, so Merlin calls up some old friends to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still accepting ideas for 'deleted scenes' you want to see from any previous or future chapters.

Standing on the training field was nothing new to Merlin. Standing there in front of a group of knights who were all giving him their full attention was. Merlin still wasn't used to being in a station above these men, so the entire experience was a bit disconcerting. He understood why he had to do this, but he really wished someone could do it for him.

The fact that every knight was dressed in normal civilian wear instead of their chainmail and red capes was only a slight comfort. Before him stood Sir Kay, Sir Tristan, and Sir Lionel. Luke was to his left and Sir Gareth was five paces away to the right, here to simply watch and not to participate.

Clearing his throat, Merlin began, "Hello."

He received amused smiles and a few 'Hellos' in return, making him blush.

"So. Arthur has asked me to teach you defensive and offensive spells," Merlin explained. "The recent magical attacks on Camelot proved that having, er, so few sorcerers on Camelot's side is a weakness now that magic is not illegal to practice in the kingdom."

It was easy to hear Arthur's voice saying these words, if with more confidence.

"I'm going to do my best to teach you, but know that it could take years to get any good."

"We've all trained for years as knights. We understand that skill takes time and effort, Merlin," Lionel said. "We can be patient."

"We're prepared to learn all you can teach us," Tristan added.

No pressure.

Merlin nodded and waved to Luke, who upended the sack in his hands. Dozens upon dozens of pebbles littered the ground, all worn soft around the edges as if they had spent years on a riverbed. Which made sense because that's where Merlin and Luke had gathered them from. The gathered knights looked from the pebbles to each other to Merlin in interest.

"We'll start with a defensive spell, because I think that will be more useful to you in the short and long term, since you can already attack with your normal weapons. It's a basic shielding spell, enough to block simple spells and most non-magical attacks thrown at you," Merlin explained. "The stronger your innate magic and the stronger your will, the more your shield will be able to defend against. However, it'll be a small shield, able to shield maybe two people at a time."

Kay grinned. "That's great, but when do we get to learn to cast fire or throw our enemies?"

With a quick flash of gold, Kay was flung backwards off his feet to land hard on the ground. The other knights gasped and groaned in sympathy - though Gareth looked amused as well. When Kay pushed himself up into a sitting position, he found Merlin with a gloating, yet somehow innocent, expression on his face.

"See?" he asked, his voice perfectly matching his face. "How do you defend against that? If someone threw fire at you, what would you do? You need to know how to defend before you learn how to hurt."

Kay was scowling as Tristan helped him up. "Alright yes yes. I get it." He waved an impatient hand at Merlin and pouted at Gareth's laughing smile. "Show us the shield spell."

Luke knelt down and grabbed a handful of pebbles. "Ábregdan." The pebbles began to levitate before the young man and he glanced at Merlin. At the dark haired male's nod, Luke sent the rocks racing across the short distance between them with a quick, "Scéotan."

"Nerung!" Merlin shouted, pronunciation clear. The rocks hit an invisible shield, bouncing off to land in the grass harmlessly. "Next time," Merlin said to Luke, "don't let them hit the ground after they're blocked.

"Right." Luke nodded and moved to pick up the thrown pebbles by hand.

Merlin turned to the knights again. "See? Very simple. Only one word and it's easy to pronounce. I'll teach you more specific guarding spells for stronger attacks, but for now, 'nerung' will work. You have to visualize the shield as you say it, so if holding your arm up like you're wearing a shield helps go ahead and do it." He held his arm up for a moment as an example of pretending to hold a shield. "Understand?" The knights nodded. "What's the spell?"

"Nerung." The knights chorused back with relatively good pronunciation.

Merlin's eyes flashed gold and half of the pile of pebbles raised into the air without him moving a muscle. A glance at Luke had his apprentice saying "Ábregdan" again and lifting the rest of the pebbles.

Merlin gave the waiting knights a second to watch the rocks balance on air before he said, "Alright. Try not to get hit." Then he let the pebbles fly.

...

...

Learning to do magic was fun. Making sparks fly from his finger tips, twisting smoke into shapes, lifting heavy objects with a wave of his hand. Luke was already so much more powerful than he'd been when he arrived in Camelot, only able to unlock things and let out uncontrolled bursts that threw people backwards.

But one thing he was also enjoying? Learning people.

He worked for Arthur every day but still the king's apparent mood swings and the reasons behind his actions baffled Luke more than half the time. He didn't understand how Merlin had handled this for so many years, how he had managed to stay hidden as a servant when he had such power coursing through his very blood. But he had learned that Arthur cared about people. Of that, Luke had no doubts. If there was someone in need and absolutely any way for Camelot, or Arthur himself, to help then it was done. So, in a way, he did understand the king. Sometimes

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the king _and Merlin_ , but he was getting there. After all, he'd known from day one that Merlin was loyal to King Arthur and it had only taken a week to see how devoted Merlin was to Arthur the man. It was more a shock that Arthur felt the same way about Merlin that was taking time to process than anything else.

No, what was really interesting to Luke were the knights.

He saw them every day at practice and then periodically in the halls and whenever he was brought along on a trip with Arthur when knights were involved. Not to mention what he learned through castle gossip. So he knew them, or at least most of them, by name and the rest by face.

He knew Gwaine and Lancelot were Merlin's closest knight friends. He knew Percival used to be the youngest knight until Luned joined the ranks. He knew Tristan was a prince and Bagde-whatever was a king. He knew Gareth used to be a kitchen boy and Pelleas was the first non-noble to be knighted. Dinadan told funny jokes, especially after he and Gwaine had spent time in the tavern. He knew Lionel and Bors were brothers who were always quick to jump to Lancelot's defense should trouble start to brew; that Bors liked to pull pranks and complete missions at night because, unlike his brother with a warmer skin tone, he could blend into shadows and jump out when his target least expected. Urien had grown quieter after Morgana and the magic users left but wouldn't talk about why, though many suspected a broken heart. And he knew Tor was the knight most distrustful of magic so Luke was not to cast spells around him unless necessary.

Kay was related to Arthur but Luke hadn't quite figured out the how yet - each castle worker he asked seemed to have a different answer. He was tall, even among the knights, and he had a reputation for being a bully. Luke had seen him vanish behind many closed doors with Gareth after a hard practice session or when one of them returned from a patrol.

Luke had been with Arthur the day Luned introduced the king to his patroness and lover, Lady Laudine, Countess of the Fountain of Landuc. Seeing Arthur so thrown had made Luke bite back laughter, which earned him extra chores but was so worth it. The Countess's father had arrived a week later to discuss Laudine's living arrangements while she lived with Luned in Camelot. He had been a tall and stiff backed man who only softened when looking at Laudine or Luned. Arthur had taken the chance to write up several basic treaty points with the Duke for him to take back to King Caerleon for perusal, which had transformed into a well rounded and mutually beneficial treaty shortly after, signed by both kings. But Luke had been more focused on watching Luned and Laudine try to be sneaky about holding hands and being affectionate during the meeting so he didn't know what was in that treaty.

Luke had heard rumor after rumor of great King Arthur and his lowly servant lover, Guinevere. He had more than just his embarrassing firsthand knowledge to refute those rumors though. Lancelot was a knight. He rarely was not seen wearing red or decked out in chainmail or armor. This made him easy to spot in a crowd or a hallway from a distance. Luke had spotted him, many times, holding Gwen's hands and kissing her fingers, tracing his fingers down her cheeks and whispering in her ear, staring at her with a passionate gaze and a deep red blush across his cheeks.

Arthur had never mentioned them. He didn't tell Luke much beyond what he needed to know - Merlin and the knights were better for squeezing information from - and that left Luke wondering whether the king was aware of the rumors or of the love story unfolding within his castle walls. The less charitable side of him said of course not because Arthur was a moron, while the rest of him said Arthur probably knew but didn't consider it important to discuss.

Every knight, no matter their previous stations in life, treated each other like brothers. They laughed together, sang together, went drinking together, defended each other, made fun of each other, shared stories of their pasts with one another, trained together, fought together, and were willing to die for one another. For a boy from a poor background with a father who hated him, the appeal of the brotherhood of the knights was staggering.

And maybe that was why Luke cared to learn so much about them and paid such close attention to their lives. It was why he was often late completing chores for Arthur and why he'd consumed way more alcohol than a reasonable fifteen year old boy should. It was why Luke was using the spell book Merlin was lending him to find practical joke spells when he should be practicing the healing and battle spells Merlin had tasked him with.

It was definitely why Luke was with the knights in the courtyard instead of in the council chamber with Arthur when a harried and exhausted messenger on horseback rode into town and collapsed as soon as his feet touched the stone, a letter for the king clutched desperately in his fingers.

...

...

"Kiiiii!"

Two falcons circled above a large gathering of tents in the middle of a forest, then alighted gently on a low tree branch near a dark green tent. The door flap was open, spilling candlelight out into the dark trees and revealing a fraction of what was occurring inside.

"-a fact that the boy king has barely a hundred men at his back," a deep voice crowed.

"One hundred extensively trained _Camelot_ knights," a woman countered. "And that does not count the regular soldiers nor the city guard, which account for several hundred more."

The man scoffed. "And we have over two thousand between us, with another three thousand on the way. What can a few hundred do against so many?"

"You are too arrogant, King Claudus," a voice said - a voice very familiar to all in the court of Camelot. He was sitting in a chair clearly visible from the door, an act of arrogance on its own - telling all who might walk by that you could do nothing to harm him even if you saw him. King Cenred of Essetir was a dashingly handsome as ever, and his eyes were just as cold. "Greater men have fallen to Camelot for less than that."

Claudus huffed but it was the woman who spoke up.

"And you are too cautious since your last failed attempt on the young king's life," she said.

Cenred glowered to his left. "And what would you suggest, then, Lady Rience?"

"Queen," she corrected, sharp as a sword's edge. The candlelight made her cloak - woven from multicolored hair - seem to glow as she moved to stand before Cenred. "And I would suggest, milord, that we attack now, before Arthur has a chance to gather his forces."

While Cenred and Rience stared at one another, locked in a battle of wills, the falcons outside preened their feathers. One stopped preening and butted its head against the faded silver wing of the other, smaller falcon. The smaller falcon watched the bigger, duller colored bird preen for a moment, then reached out with its beak and began to tug gently at feathers that were nudged out of place, helping the bigger falcon clean itself.

"We will wait until our allies arrive," Cenred said at length, his voice as hard as his gaze. "You forget that Arthur has powerful magic working for him."

Claudus' hulking frame blocked all light from reaching the trees for a moment, causing the falcons to startle briefly before moving away from the door again. "He also believes fate is on his side," the large man sneered. "We have magic in our forces as well."

Cenred was beginning to look murderous, but was controlling himself well. "And there are many more arriving with Vortimer and Morholt, and a good number of our army will not arrive until Lord Lucius does. We will wait."

"I do hope you intend to kill that man when this is over," Rience quipped, as if talking about the weather. "Lucius envisions himself an emperor, and would rather rule you than be your ally."

"We will deal with him, and the others, when Arthur and his allies are merely blood on our boots," Cenred said.

...

...

"Brangwain says she'll have a feast ready for every meal and that there is plenty of wine to keep the king happy for the next four weeks without worry," Gwen noted, "but Safir worries that none of the horses are large enough to hold him."

Arthur dutifully wrote a short letter, signed and pressed his seal to it, then held it out to Gwen. "Take this to Tom, the dwarf in town. Immediately. He'll be leaving at first light and we need his best draft horse. That note sends you with my power to purchase one you deem fit for King Horsa."

To her credit, Gwen only looked shocked for a moment that Arthur was letting her choose. Then she gave a small smile and a curtsy. When that was done, she glanced around at Arthur's clean room.

"Where's Luke?"

Arthur also glanced around his room for a moment, though he didn't hesitate with his answer. "I'm having him standing watch for any messengers from our allies." He met the maid's eyes. "I need to know where Gorre, Cornwall, and Caerleon's forces are before I can make an informed decision on what to do next."

Gwen nodded as if battle tactics were something she dealt with every day - and in a way they might be, though not on this scale. Then she gave him a more secret smile.

"And Merlin?"

The king was proud of himself for not blushing at all her expression and tone implied. He had no idea how Gwen knew about his relationship with Merlin, but it was embarrassing to think it was common knowledge. But at least if he had to deal with sly glances from anyone it was Gwen, who wouldn't be cruel about it. Her acceptance was even more surprising considering Arthur had been courting her before he realized how deep his feelings for Merlin ran.

"I was actually about to ask you about that," Arthur admitted, looking down at the papers on his desk once more. "I haven't seen him since the welcome dinner for King Horsa last night."

There was a clack against glass and both Arthur and Gwen turned to see Archimedes tapping his beak against the window. Arthur was up and opening the window in a moment, curious and - admittedly - a little worried that Merlin's bird was visiting him instead of the man himself. After Archimedes had glided inside and before Arthur could even consider closing the window again, a second bird darted inside and landed, without grace, on the floor at Arthur's feet.

"Did Archie find a friend?" Gwen asked. She knew the bird existed, most did, but Arthur still counted himself among the few who knew Archimedes could speak fluent English.

"Kii!" Archimedes trilled happily.

And then the other falcon began to grow in size. It got larger and larger, until it was up to Arthur's hips, and then it seemed to unfold from itself. When it finally stood tall, Arthur was faced with the familiar face of Merlin. Or, mostly familiar.

"Merlin?!" Arthur gasped, glancing down at Merlin's bare feet where the bird had sat and then back up at the man's grinning face. He opened and closed his mouth several times. "You-How-What-...I think you're not quite all here."

The grin fell from Merlin's face into a questioning frown. Arthur just nodded toward him and Merlin lifted his hands to feel his face - his missing ears and feathery hair and shoulders. His eyes widened briefly, then Merlin shook his head like a dog that just jumped from a river. The feathers vanished and Merlin's signature large ears reappeared.

"Better?" he asked.

The corner of Arthur's lips quirked up. "Much. I'm far too attached to your large ears to lose them now."

Also he was greatly impressed that Merlin had been a _bird_ ten seconds ago. _When_ had he learned to do that?

From across the room, Gwen cleared her throat. When both men turned to look at her, they saw that her face was the burnt red of the deepest blush. As soon as they were looking at her, she squeaked and looked away, to anywhere that wasn't them.

"Gwen?" Merlin said in concern.

She let out a little 'hm' of a squeak, this time with her mouth closed, as he addressed her. Then she cleared her throat, twice, and said, "Um...Merlin? Your...um...That is...Not that you're not...Oh what am I saying? Merlin, put some clothes on!"

Merlin quickly glanced down and saw that, indeed, he wasn't wearing a single scrap of fabric. Eyes widening, he hurriedly threw his hands down to cover his indecent bits. Arthur grabbed the top quilt from his bed and flung it over Merlin, head and all, before standing between him and Gwen.

"I'm so sorry, Gwen!" Merlin said, voice muffled by the quilt.

She shook her head, still not looking. "It's, it's really...It's fine. Just...Clothes, in the future, Merlin? Hm?"

As Merlin stumbled blindly, tripping over the dragging fabric, toward Arthur's changing wall, he said, "Right. That'll be-Absolutely the next thing I-I'm still practicing this spell, you see."

Once Merlin was safely ensconced behind the changing wall, the quilt fell to the floor. Arthur grabbed one of Merlin's pants and shirts from the wardrobe and walked behind the wall to hand them to an embarrassed Merlin. He received a glare that demanded why Arthur hadn't told him he was naked and gave Merlin a raised eyebrow that responded that it wasn't his job to make sure Merlin's spell worked properly.

And honestly he had forgotten that Gwen was in the room as soon as Merlin transformed in front of him, and nudity wasn't really something he was unaccustomed to with Merlin.

"I'm terribly sorry, Guinevere," Arthur said, feeling his own cheeks heat in delayed embarrassment. It wasn't right for her to have seen a naked man when they weren't in a relationship, especially not when standing next to the one who was in a relationship with that naked man. And alright, he was embarrassed that he hadn't thought to cover Merlin up himself.

Gwen shook her head again and actually met Arthur's eyes. "Don't worry about it," she assured him. "Anyway, I'm going to-The horse. I'm going to see about a horse."

It took about three seconds for her to flee from the room, and only five seconds more for Merlin to step fully clothed from behind the wall.

"Well that was an embarrassing experience I hope never to repeat," the dark haired man quipped, pulling on the end of his shirt sleeves.

Arthur huffed out a breath in agreement. He reached out and toyed with the curly ends of Merlin's hair, what had been feathers only moments before, then trailed his fingers down the shell of Merlin's left ear before finally letting his hand come to rest against the taller man's neck.

"There are times when you amazing me, Merlin," he admitted. "When did you learn to become a bird?"

"I started thinking on it when Archimedes came back, but I didn't really start to try until a few weeks ago," Merlin informed him.

A few weeks ago. A few weeks ago news came, rumors, that King Cenred had made allies with all those remaining who opposed Arthur's prophesied rule over a united Albion. A few weeks ago Arthur sent out scouts to confirm these rumors and, when several of those scouts came back corroborating those rumors, Arthur had begun to request aid from the kingdoms he had already allied with.

In what way could Merlin being a bird relate to the current events?

"Secret meetings!" Archimedes chimed from the floor. "Tell, tell! Kii!" The falcon flapped his wings enough to land on Arthur's table, where a map of Albion was spread out, then began stamping around the edges like an impatient hunting dog.

Arthur's eyes widened. "You spied on them for me?"

Merlin shrugged. "I've done far worse for you, Arthur."

He said it like it was nothing and Arthur allowed himself a moment to lean in and lay a peck high on Merlin's cheek. That always made Merlin's eyes scrunch up so Arthur liked to do it.

"What did you learn?" he asked, voice all business as he moved over to look at the map with Archimedes. Merlin followed after barely a heartbeat.

"Cenred has the king of Terre Deserte and the Queen of the Western Isles on his side," he said, pointing to each respective kingdom on the map. "He also mentioned that Morholt of Ireland, Lucius of Jutil, and Vortimer of Cymry were on their way."

Arthur let his eyes roam the map, to each of the kingdoms. Enemies from all sides were joining forces. But at least they were all joining on one side instead of coming at Arthur from everywhere at once. They would be easier to defeat this way.

"I'm not surprised Claudus is against me. My father devastated his kingdom in the early years of his reign. And Queen Rience has always been a battle hungry leader," he said to Merlin.

"I've heard she makes clothing from the beards of her fallen enemies, but I didn't believe it until last night," Merlin admitted. "Her cloak was definitely sewn out of hair from a lot of different people."

Arthur flicked his eyes up to Merlin briefly. "It's how she keeps the respect of her men. She shows her strength wherever she goes simply by wearing it, so no one questions her skills." He sighed, fingers tracing the maps near the figurines that had been set up along the board to Essetir where Cenred's troops were camping. "How many?"

Merlin was silent for a moment.

"How many?" Arthur repeated, voice firmer.

"Two thousand at the moment. When they're all together? Over five thousand, including magic users," he revealed gravely.

Arthur cursed and dropped his head low between his arms braced on the table. Merlin's hand was on his shoulder a moment later, gripping it tight to offer comfort. It worked a bit, reminding Arthur that no matter what he would always have Merlin. It also reminded him that Merlin wasn't the only magic force on his side.

"How are the knights coming?" Arthur asked, lifting his head.

Merlin shrugged. "Kay is getting pretty good, and Tristan is right there behind him. Lionel isn't as strong, but he'll manage with time."

Arthur let out a harsh breath. "Time we don't have. Can they fight?"

"Kay and Tristan are best at offensive spells, but Lionel excels at defense. It's not enough on its own, but I've seen how they incorporate it into their normal fights and...it'll work, Arthur." The knowledge that he had three sorcerer knights against seven thousand men didn't seem to encourage Arthur much, so Merlin included, "I also know that they've been spreading what I teach them among any who ask. I've seen several of the guards hanging around the field during practice, and some of your soldiers have asked Luke and I for protection charms and amulets of strength."

"And my allies have been open to magic for years, so we may have sorcerers there as well," Arthur spoke up. "I've sent a messenger to locate Morgana and the magic users she's with. I know it's likely too soon to rely on their loyalty, but it is better to ask and be denied than not to ask and wonder how much difference they would have made."

Merlin squeezed his shoulder and grinned. "If you made it sound dire enough, Morgana might come and help just so she could lord it over you later."

Arthur scoffed and knocked Merlin's hand away. "Shut up, Merlin." But they both knew he didn't really mean it.

The momentary lightness in their expressions dimmed and Arthur referenced his map again. "I've sent a request for aid to King Mark and to King Caerleon and Queen Annis. Sir Bagdemagus sent a messenger to rally his own troops in Gorre to march this way. In a few days, we could have over three thousand men ready to fight." He shook his head once. "I wish we had already signed the treaty with Nemeth and Meredor, or that Mora was close enough to be of any help."

Merlin now tapped the map as well, pointing out another kingdom Arthur hadn't mentioned. "What about Mercia?" he asked with a wince.

They both remembered the last time Mercia had been in Camelot.

With a sigh, Arthur admitted, "Mercia would be more likely to side with our enemies at the moment than against them. I need more time to deal with them properly. Time I won't have if we lose this battle."

Merlin frowned. "Arthur, remember. Tethella prophesied that you would rule over a united Albion. I've heard the same thing from other seers as well. Take heart in that. You have too much left to do with your life to fail here."

"I'm not worried for myself, Merlin," Arthur said. "I'm worried about all those who are fighting beside me."

Merlin took a deep breath. They should keep Griflet and Dinadan near the back of Camelot's battle lines, since they weren't yet fully healed from the sorcerer attack weeks ago. The knights would hate it but it was better than telling them they couldn't come at all. Kay, Tristan, and Lionel would be spread out among the other knights and guards, their little magical gifts helping to protect those around them.

Luke too, would be far from Merlin for most of the fight. Merlin's apprentice was much more prepared for a fight than the knights were, with months more training than them, but Merlin still worried. Luke was younger than Percival and Luned, both of whom had just turned nineteen. Luke was only fifteen, and he trusted Merlin with absolutely everything. If he got hurt, or died, fighting in a battle because Merlin hadn't taught him well enough...

"We just have to do our best," Merlin said, his voice catching in his throat and giving it a bit of a strangled quality. "We just have to protect them the best we can."

Arthur stared at the map for a few moments more, then looked toward the window. The sounds of the city were nearly muted up here, but if he listened carefully then he could hear the quiet hum of his capitol thriving with life.

"They aren't the only ones we need to protect," Arthur said, motioning toward the window. "Our enemies are gathering to the south, and so should we. We can gather here," he pointed on the map to a river just below the Ridge of Ascetir, "and then face Cenred and his armies where innocent villagers won't be harmed."

...

...

There was a knock at the door while Luke was putting Arthur's armor on. At Arthur's acknowledgement, the door opened to reveal Gaius carrying his typical medicine bag.

"Ah, Gaius," Arthur greeted with a nod while Luke buckled his pauldrons to his breastplate.

Gaius nodded. "Sire, I have something I need to speak with you about. _Before_ you leave for Ascetir."

"I'm listening," Arthur said. He didn't have much time to talk, but while he was enduring Luke's rather slow armor assembly he didn't have much else to do.

Gaius hesitated, his eyes glancing at Luke and then back to Arthur. Then he let out a small sigh. "I have been keeping a secret from you," he admitted.

Arthur shook his head minutely. "Why do you sound so grave, Gaius? Surely nothing could be worse than harboring Merlin's secret all those years."

For a moment, Gaius looked indignant. "And it seems that all my secrets should be ones I keep for others," he said, just short of a snap. "This involves one of your knights, so I do hope you will take it seriously."

Luke slid Excalibur into its sheath and stepped back, done putting Arthur's armor on. He lifted an eyebrow at Arthur. Arthur let out an aggravated sigh.

"It's not terrible," he admitted, causing Luke to give a devilish grin. "Shut up, Luke. And go make sure the men are ready. We leave for Ascetir as soon as I am done speaking with Gaius."

Luke bowed. "As you wish, sire," he said, channeling way too much of Merlin's insolent attitude for Arthur's liking at the moment.

When the young man was gone, Arthur turned his attention back to Gaius. "What were you saying about my knights?"

Gaius shook his head. "I do not think it wise to let Luned accompany you into what is, essentially, a war zone."

"And why not?" Arthur asked. "He's proved himself a worthy opponent for any of my knights, trains as hard if not harder than his fellow men, and was instrumental in securing our peace with Caerleon. He can handle himself."

Gaius looked like he was experiencing especially painful gas. "I am not questioning Luned's skills, sire. I am questioning whether it is wise to send someone of Luned's...circumstances, into battle."

Arthur frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. "Circumstances?" What circumstances? Did he mean the fact that Luned was all but married to a duchess? "Many of my knights have noble companions. Those who chose to attach themselves to soldiers know the danger they face. I'm sure Lady Laudine understands."

Now Gaius let out a huff. "It is not Lady Laudine I am worried about, though I will be having a talk with her later as well," he said. "She has helped hide Luned's secret as surely as I have."

"I'm confused," Arthur said. "What secret is Luned keeping from me?"

Luned's background was no secret. He was once a servant in Duke Landunet's house, until he found favor with the then young Countess who allowed him to learn the way of the sword. His mother had died in childbirth and his father had fallen to illness when he was a child. Lady Laudine had ensured he had an education in academics as well as weapons and they had spent nearly every day at each other's side. It only seemed natural that they would eventually become lovers. Their relationship wasn't a secret from the Duke, Arthur, or the knights. It wasn't a scandal. So what about Luned was Gaius speaking of? Had Luned lied about something in his past?

"Arthur, Luned lied to you the day of the tournament in order to compete," Gaius revealed. "I only learned the truth after the battle with Mordred and his followers."

"Wait," Arthur interrupted, making the old man frown and raise his eyebrow. "Are you talking about his age?"

It had been a requirement of the tournament of knights that competitors be at least eighteen. Luned had said he was nineteen, but he did look a bit young and thin. Arthur had thought it was due to lack of proper nutrition but now that he thought about it, a man courting a Countess would have access to better food than most.

Arthur shook his head. "Whether he is nineteen or seventeen, Luned is a knight of Camelot. To revoke that title for less than dishonorable conduct would insult the house he represents," he said.

"Sire," Gaius said, sounding aggravated.

"And regardless, I do not have time to properly deal with him right now," Arthur barreled on. "I'll keep him to the back of the ranks if that will make you happy, Gaius, but I can't spare a man right now just because you're having a moral dilemma."

For several seconds, Gaius just stared at him with an unreadable expression. Then he gave a deep, weary sigh. "I suppose now is not the time," he said cryptically. "I only hope my fears are unfounded."

Then, before Arthur could properly wrap his brain around the physicians strange words, Gaius bowed and exited, leaving Arthur alone in his room.

...

...

"Surely there are others more suited-"

"Guinevere," Arthur cut her off gently. She wrung her hands together but let him continue. "You've been helping me with daily tasks for weeks now. You know the workings of the castle better than most. You have the trust of me and my knights. You can do this."

She heaved a deep breath. "But I'm only a servant, Arthur. Will anyone really listen to me if none of you are around to tell them to do so?"

Arthur let out a small huff. "If it makes you feel better, I've already told Gaius, Geoffrey, and the council that you'll be in charge until I return. They won't question you taking charge for a few days." He clasped her shoulders firmly and looked her in the eyes. "I have complete faith in you."

It took a few seconds for the worry to ease out of Gwen's expression, and then she took a step forward and wrapped Arthur in the tightest hug she could manage around his armor. Arthur was reminded of why he cared for her so much. She was strong of will and cared for people. She wasn't afraid to tell him when she thought he was wrong. She gave her everything to whatever task she set her mind to. She would make a good queen.

Then she pulled away and gave him a small but genuine smile. "Thank you, Arthur."

Arthur grinned. "Don't mention it."

When he had mounted his horse, he turned to survey the courtyard around him. Merlin was already on horseback, dressed in his own chainmail over a long sleeved blue shirt and beneath a deep red tunic. It was strange to see Merlin in chainmail, openly riding into battle like any other knight. The blue matched his ceremonial robes for color while the red symbolized his loyalty to Camelot, but the chainmail was what stopped Arthur short. Merlin had worn chainmail before, but it had been borrowed or stolen chainmail. Only recently had Merlin finally had his very own suit made, and Arthur was very pleased with the results.

But seeing Merlin so obviously about to go to battle made Arthur's skin prickle uncomfortably. He didn't like putting Merlin in danger, regardless of the fact that Merlin put himself in danger for Camelot nearly every day. Arthur wished he could tell Merlin to stay behind, to help Gwen take care of the city while they were gone. But he knew Merlin wouldn't listen, would follow anyway, would resent him for the order. And he also knew that their chances of survival were infinitely higher with Merlin on their side than without him. Still, he didn't have to like it.

Next to Merlin, also on horseback, was Luke. They were chatting about something but were too far away for Arthur to catch any words. Luke was also wearing chainmail but he looked incredibly uncomfortable in it. Just past Merlin, Arthur caught sight of Luned standing by his horse and was reminded of Gaius's earlier words. That entire conversation got more confusing every time Arthur replayed it in his mind and he couldn't help but feel that he had missed something incredibly obvious.

He would have to talk to Gaius again when they returned.

Laudine took Luned's face in her hands gently, ran her thumbs over his cheeks, and then leaned in for a kiss. Arthur turned his head away from the scene and saw Lancelot thanking a stable hand for saddling his horse. He caught the knight's gaze and then glanced to Gwen and back.

There was every possibility many of them would not return from this battle. Arthur wouldn't let Lancelot ride with the guilt of not having had a chance to say goodbye. He walked his horse several feet away to give them the illusion of privacy in the crowded courtyard.

"Gwen," Lancelot started.

"No," Gwen interrupted immediately with a shake of her head. "I know that tone and I won't hear it. You're going to win. You're going to come back, alive. Do you understand? Don't you doubt it."

Lancelot smiled, a small but bright one. "Of course. Anything you want."

Gwen hesitated again, clutching her hands to her chest and worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. She glanced around for a moment and then rolled her eyes and let out a breath. With a shy smile, she stepped forward and reached up, planting a kiss to Lancelot's lips. It only took a fraction of a second for him to jolt into action and return the kiss, wrapping Gwen up in his arms like he wanted to keep her there forever. A noise from the other side of the courtyard made Arthur turn and he saw Merlin had one of his hands over Luke's mouth and a frown aimed at his apprentice, who was staring unabashedly at the pair saying goodbye.

At length, Gwen and Lancelot pulled apart, both of them with beaming smiles on their faces.

"Does this mean-?" Lancelot asked, unable to finish his question.

Gwen nodded. "I'm sorry I was so indecisive," she said quietly. "But...I hope this gives you courage and that you know you have a reason to come home. To me." And then they were kissing again.

Arthur shook his head at the giddy expressions and bright flushes on both of their cheeks. Thank heavens he and Merlin weren't that disgustingly romantic. Of course, he had grown very fond of kissing Merlin, catching him off guard with unexpected pecks and distracting him from his work as much as Merlin distracted him like it was a game. He liked to hold Merlin whenever they were alone and he wasn't above doing as Laudine had and caressing Merlin's face, but that was during intimate moments and when they shared meals, and not in public surrounded by dozens of watchful eyes.

As he turned his head he saw Merlin giving him a pointed look and felt a blush creep onto his own face. He cleared his throat and looked away from the sorcerer. "Alright! Let's head out! We have a battle to win!"

Several cheers went up from the remaining knights and soldiers around them, and from several castle workers who were staying behind. Lancelot gave Gwen one last hug and smile before mounting his horse. Then they all followed Arthur out, through the city, and into the field beyond to begin their journey.

Most of his men were waiting outside the city alongside King Horsa and his own soldiers. The hope was that more men would join them as they rode toward the ridge.

...

...

The camp site was crowded. Very crowded. Gwaine had to duck past two good-natured fights between men with muscles at least twice as big as Gwaine's, push through a crowd of young fighters who had been trained but clearly had never seen an actual battle based on how they were talking, and apologize to four guys that he bumped into on pure accident trying to get around. By the time he had returned to his seat around a small dinner fire with Percival, Luned, Luke, Lancelot, Urien, Tor, and Tristan, Gwaine was feeling exhausted.

"I miss anythin'?" he asked as he plopped down.

"Luned ate your leftovers," Tristan said, deadpan, as he whittled at a piece of wood.

Luned's mouth dropped open. "Traitor!" he accused.

Gwaine gave the youngest knight his best puppy dog eyes. "How could ya do tha' ta me?" he whimpered. "I'm gonna waste 'way ta nothin' now. What'll ya do when the battle starts if I'm dead?"

"Probably survive longer," Tor chimed in, making the others laugh.

Gwaine pretended to be offended for about five seconds before just shaking his head and waving them off. "Brutes, the lot o' ya."

Urien nodded toward one of the few tents pitched nearby. "They're all still in there," he said, effectively killing what little good mood there had been.

They had made camp when Bagdemagus' men met up with them, which was why everything was so crowded. Arthur, Sir Bagdemagus, King Horsa, and Merlin had disappeared into a tent as soon as one had been pitched and hadn't come out since. One of King Horsa's men had brought them dinner but no one had seen any of them for hours now. The pow wow of knights was as much to protect their king in case of danger as for anything else.

After several quiet moments, the sounds of the men around them and the crackling fire the only thing between them and silence, Luke let out a breath. The fire jumped just a bit.

"I've never seen so many people in one place," the fair haired sorcerer said. "It's a bit overwhelming."

"We get crowds like this at tournaments sometimes," Tor informed him easily. "People love a good show."

"I attended a festival in Gedref once," Lancelot said, "while I was traveling and trying to prove to myself I was worthy of being a knight. The city was bursting with people. I thought for sure the entire kingdom had packed itself into the capital to celebrate." He smiled. "I can't even remember what they were celebrating."

"Had that good a time, eh?" Gwaine said, elbowing him in the side. Lancelot just shook his head with an embarrassed smile.

Luned poked at the fire with a stick. "I'm with Luke. Laudine's father hosted parties four times a year, to mark the beginning of each season. Nobles, knights, and commoners alike were all invited. Still I don't think I ever saw more than five hundred attendees at any given event."

Beside him, Percival perked up. "Hey, I've been to one of Duke Landunet's parties," he revealed. "My father took me because he and the duke knew each other as boys. It was a nice event, as I recall." He looked to the left at Luned. "I don't remember seeing you there. You said you were friends with the Countess, right? I remember she brought all her ladies in waiting, and there were a few men trying to woo her, but I don't think I saw you."

For a moment, Luned just stared at the fire while everyone stared at him. Then he shrugged. "I didn't go to every party. Sometimes I preferred to get in extra practice while the training fields were empty. I don't remember you either," he said as he met Percival's eyes. "So you likely attended one of the parties I missed."

Percival shrugged, accepting the simple answer. Even if they had both attended, it was many years ago, so it was possible they had simply changed in appearance enough that they didn't recognize each other. And it wasn't like Percival's father would have introduced him to a servant, anyway.

Gwaine let out a long, loud groan and interrupted any further conversation on that topic.

"I miss the good ol' days," he complained.

Lancelot grinned. "What good old days?"

The roguish knight waved toward the tent where their leaders were still meeting. "When Merlin had ta huddle 'round the fire with all us normal folk."

"There's nothing normal about us," Tristan countered without looking up from his work, pointedly ignoring Gwaine's pouting glare. "We're a mixture of nobles, commoners, and sorcerers."

Urien nodded. "Camelot is becoming quite diverse these days." Tor frowned and adjusted his chainmail.

Gwaine let out a sad sigh. "Yeah, I see your point. An' at least we still have Junior."

Luke glared. "I told you to stop calling me that."

"Well then what am I supposed to call you?" Gwaine asked.

"Luke!"

For the briefest moment, everyone watched as Gwaine honestly seemed to consider it. Then he shook his head and smiled. "Naw, won't work. You're Junior."

Luke let himself fall to lie on his back with an 'ugh' and rubbed his hands over his face while the knights chuckled.

...

...

The sounds of the camp had long gone quiet, only a few men still awake to keep watch. Crickets chirped in the bushes and owls hooted from the trees. Only the barest crackle could be heard from the dying fires. Merlin lay on his back, staring up at the stars through the trees. He and Arthur both could have slept in a tent, but Arthur insisted on sleeping with his men and Merlin was used to sleeping outdoors on the ground during trips.

They would be in a battle two days from now, maybe sooner. He should get all the rest he could now. But.

Turning on his side, Merlin faced Arthur's gaze. The king didn't even blink at having been caught staring. His expression was too serious to merit teasing. "What's wrong?" Merlin asked.

Arthur had been still for hours now, but Merlin knew he was no closer to sleep than the wizard himself, perhaps even further away.

Arthur shook his head as best he could without lifting it. "Nothing," he said. "Just can't sleep."

Merlin raised an eyebrow at him. "Arthur."

The king sighed and rolled onto his back in his bedroll. "We're outnumbered two-to-one. More than that, even," he said quietly into the night. "Even with King Mark joining us, if he joins us before the battle, we'll still be about three thousand men short of an even field at last count. And though Caerleon has been friendly toward Camelot, we've received no word on whether they'll send any reinforcements."

Arthur rubbed his hands over his face and took a deep breath. Now was usually when Merlin would reassure Arthur that things were going to be fine. But he had been in the strategy meetings all evening with Arthur, Horsa, and Bagdemagus. He knew the odds were not in their favor. He wished he could cast a shield like the one he'd put around Camelot when Mordred attacked, except he would put a small one around every ally of Camelot. But like then, Merlin would have to drop it if he wanted to fight and if he didn't want to be too weak to help later.

"If we're going to survive this battle, let alone win it, we're going to need a miracle," Arthur murmured, sounding tired and half defeated already.

A miracle. What they needed was something even the sorcerers on the enemy's side could not defeat. Something that would keep them occupied while the knights fought the non-magical soldiers.

Merlin sat up, a light coming on in his head. He knew just the thing!

Arthur lowered his hands and looked at him curiously. "Merlin?"

"Arthur, I need to show you something," Merlin said, standing up and holding his hand out to his king.

They crept out of the camp as quickly and quietly as they could, considering they were both still partially wearing armor in case of an attack at night. No one woke up, or if they did they pretended to still be asleep. Arthur was silent until they were several minutes away from any straggling knights.

"Merlin, where are we going? What are you showing me?" he asked.

Up ahead was a clearing. It wasn't the biggest, but it would do.

"I promise I wasn't keeping them a secret," Merlin said, glancing over his shoulder at Arthur as they came to a stop just inside the clearing. The moonlight was stronger here, not fighting through the leaves, and made their chainmail glimmer. "It just...never came up." He shrugged.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "All this talk of secrets," he grumbled. "What are you talking about, Merlin? Just come out and say it."

"Watch." He faced the sky and said, "O drakous, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes!"

Arthur shook with the power behind those words, which seemed more foreign and more ancient than any spell he'd ever heard. For a few moments after Merlin stopped speaking, nothing happened. Arthur opened his mouth to ask what that was meant to do, but stopped.

The forest was silent around them. Animals only got this quiet when something had spooked them. Arthur's hand fell to Excalibur just as an immense rushing wind nearly unbalanced him. He looked up at the sound of great wings and took a step back.

Dragons! _Three_ dragons!

They landed before Merlin, barely squeezing into the small clearing all at once, and then _bowed_. Then the white one stepped forward and nuzzled into Merlin's stomach like an overgrown cat.

_Oh right_ , Arthur remembered, Merlin was a dragonlord.

"Merlin," Arthur said, his voice almost a whisper.

Merlin turned to look at Arthur and gave a sheepish smile, his hand still on the white dragon's head and rubbing gently. "Arthur, I'd like you to meet...um, the dragons. These two are Saxones and Wales," he said, motioning to the white then the red dragon. "And, well, you've met Kilgharrah."

Yes Arthur had. Merlin could tell just by the look on Arthur's face that he remembered. Arthur remembered Merlin telling him the dragon had been mortally wounded and fled. He remembered the dragon burning Camelot almost to the ground.

"Why have you brought them _here_ , Merlin?" Arthur demanded. Did he want to get all of Camelot's allies killed by a rampaging beast?

"Because, young Pendragon, Merlin remembers his battle with me before he came into his birthright," Kilgharrah answered with disdain in his tone, clearly unhappy to talk to him, and Arthur was so shocked he could speak English that his hand dropped from his sword. "Dragons are immune to most any magic save that of a dragonlord. And if you and your men are to survive the coming calamity, he knows you will need our help."

...

...

**Next Time: The Once and Future King**

_With dragons on their side, the knights of Camelot charge into battle. The enemy is strong, but the knights are not weak. But even as the tide of battle turns in Camelot's favor, many allies fall and Merlin finds himself on the wrong end of an enemy sword. When the battle is over, who will be left to write the legends of history?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final Chapter up next week.
> 
> Translations:
> 
> Olde = New
> 
> Ábregdan = Raise/Lift up
> 
> Scéotan = Fire/Shoot
> 
> Nerung = Guard
> 
> O drakous, e male so ftengometta tesd'hup'anankes! = This is the spell from the show that Merlin uses to summon Kilgharrah, I just switched out "drakon" for the Greek plural of dragon that is "drakous." (since apparently the dragon language is Homeric Greek)


	14. The Once and Future King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With dragons on their side, the knights of Camelot charge into battle. The enemy is strong, but the knights are not weak. But even as the tide of battle turns in Camelot's favor, many allies fall and Merlin finds himself on the wrong end of an enemy sword. When the battle is over, who will be left to write the legends of history?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And our thrilling conclusion!

"That went better than I expected."

Arthur gave Merlin a withering look that caused the sorcerer to hunch his shoulders a bit. They were wandering through the trees back toward camp, leaving the dragons in the clearing behind them. Though Arthur had heard the flap of many wings so it was entirely possible the clearing was now empty.

"It didn't come up," Arthur mimicked Merlin's earlier comment, his steps halting. "Honestly, Merlin, I'm more curious as to _when_ you gained a dragon following than the fact that you didn't see fit to tell me about them," he said in a hard tone, showing that he still cared about the latter even if he was currently more interested in the former.

Merlin dug the toe of his boot into the dirt and lifted his left shoulder in a helpless shrug. "Well Kilgharrah you know. After I came into my dragonlord powers, he stopped his attack on Camelot and only comes back when I call him. The twins...they're just babies, really."

Arthur snorted. "Biggest babies I've ever seen," he muttered.

After a short glare at his king, Merlin let out a huff of air and continued. "They're babies. I'm the first human they ever saw and they recognized my power easier than Kilgharrah did. They were, uh...They hatched under Vortigern's castle."

For several seconds, Arthur processed this new information. Vortigern had kidnapped Merlin, who just happened to find dragons under the lord's castle? No. So somehow Vortigern had known that Merlin was good with dragons, or that he was powerful enough to deal with them, or something similar. No doubt the dragons were at least partially responsible for the fall of the castle then.

The king cleared his throat and shook his head, then continued to trek back to camp.

"So we have dragons on our side now," he said. "We've worked out a plan with them and our odds of winning are better than before."

"But?" Merlin asked, falling back into step beside him.

Arthur nodded. "But if we're going to use dragons, we need to tell the men about it now so they don't panic later. The dragons are meant to distract our enemies, not our allies."

...

...

Another day of travel was gone. They were just south of the Ridge of Ascetir, the river barely an hour away on foot. Scouts had reported that Cenred's men were gathered nearby, no doubt having heard Camelot and her allies were close and deciding this was as good a place to make a stand as any.

They had received no sign of King Mark or King Caerleon, but spirits were slightly higher tonight than before. Men from every allied army were chatting quietly around their small fires, eating a freshly hunted dinner of deer and rabbit. King Horsa and King Arthur had big tents to sleep in tonight, and while some of the knights had pitched small, single person tents, most were prepared to lay their bedrolls out under the stars. The weather had been nice for over a week now, not even a hint of a shower, and the men from Gorre talked endlessly about it being a good omen.

Luke was sitting on a log, his legs crossed and not touching the ground, his eyes on a fire several feet away and surrounded by King Horsa's Kent knights. His hands fiddled with the wooden lizard pendant around his neck restlessly, whittled for him by Tristan.

"Something bothering you?" a deep voice asked.

Eyes tearing from the fire, Luke saw Breunor and Bors taking seats on the log with him. Breunor was one of the largest knights, physically, but Bors had just as much presence even with his smaller frame.

He shook his head but stopped and began nodding only a moment later. "It's just...dragons."

Bors let out a sigh, but it didn't sound unhappy. "The world keeps getting stranger every day. We won't recognize it soon."

"If that changing world includes dragons, I'm more than okay with it," Luke noted. "Dragons are like the parallel of the phoenix, strength and power of might to match a phoenix's healing and power of magic. Merlin already won the loyalty of a phoenix and now we're told he's got not one, but _three_ dragons at his command as well?"

Breunor grinned at Luke's incredulous tone and wide eyes while Bors chortled.

"And to think we ever thought poor Merlin was a weakling and a coward!" the robust knight cried.

Luke mussed his hair roughly. "I insulted him when we first met," he moaned. "The greatest sorcerer in the world and I snubbed him. I'm such an idiot!"

Breunor placed a hand on his shoulder and, when he had Luke's attention, shook his head. "We've all treated him badly at some point," he said, his voice quiet like it had been since they lost Gaheris. "But he won't hold it against you, not for a second."

"Enough about that," Bors broke in, waving his hands like the subject was a smell he didn't like. "I want to talk about how we're going to drag our enemies through the mud tomorrow now that we've got dragons fighting on our side."

A stick lifted from the ground and whacked Bors upside the head, causing him to give a short shout. He looked at Luke with an affronted glare. Luke's eyes were wide and he quickly shook his head.

"Don't blame Junior just because magic was involved," an even deeper voice said. They all turned to watch as Lionel joined them. "That was for being a mooncalf."

"A _moon_ -I'm your brother, you lout!" Bors replied, annoyed, rubbing his head.

Lionel shrugged as he took a seat on the ground by the log. "Doesn't mean you're not a mooncalf, talking big about an easy win the way you are."

Now Luke frowned for a completely different reason. "It might not be easy, but we have dragons fighting for us. That's got to count for something."

Gentle harp music began to sound through the camp nearby, calmly winding around the conversations and night sounds. Luke glanced around at the sound and just caught Merlin and Arthur entering the king's tent before his attention was pulled back to the current conversation.

"It does," Lionel agreed. "But we're vastly outnumbered. I know that dragon nearly destroyed Camelot before, but it took days and still the castle stood and we fought. Having dragons makes the field more even, but it doesn't guarantee a victory."

That was true, Luke supposed. He'd gotten so excited about the dragons, so caught up thinking about how powerful Merlin was, that he'd forgotten how serious their situation was. Still, the dragons were a comfort. He had heard how the great dragon had killed a dozen men in one fiery blast. That kind of power would save many of Camelot's allies tomorrow. The dragons also gave him more faith in Merlin. If he could command dragons and hatch a phoenix, not to mention all that Luke had heard of the great sorcerer before meeting him, then the outlook of this battle was getting brighter by the minute.

"Where on earth did he pull that harp from?" Bors commented suddenly, waving a hand toward where Tristan was still plucking soft music.

Breunor gave a single soft chuckle. "Maybe it's magic."

Lionel and Luke shrugged at the same time. "Maybe," they agreed, then grinned at each other.

"Either way, it's nice," the quiet knight said, closing his eyes.

It really was. Tristan's harp music was just loud enough to be heard over everyone's chatter. As he played, the noise level of the camp around them dulled. People began to lie down for the night and drift off to sleep, led by Tristan's lulling melody. The nervous energy that had thrummed in every man was quelled. With every note, Luke could feel the fear of tomorrow blow away like dust in the wind.

Maybe it really was magic.

...

...

Meeting an enemy leader before a battle was common enough, but never had Arthur experienced one such as this.

He was seated on his destrier in full armor, the Camelot red cloak billowing proudly behind him in the wind. King Bagdemagus was to his left, also in Camelot red but on a slightly smaller horse of Gorre breeding. King Horsa was to Arthur's right, riding the widest, strongest horse Arthur had seen in a long time so as to accommodate the eastern king's great weight. Merlin was somewhere behind them, among Camelot's troops, giving last minute pep talks where Arthur could not.

Ten feet away sat seven people on horseback facing them. Cenred had managed to position himself in the center of the group, the position of power and leadership. Arthur briefly wondered how much contention that had caused among his allies. To his right were King Claudus of Terre Deserte, Queen Rience of the Western Isles, and Lord Lucius of Jutil. To his left were the Lords Vortimer and Catigern, sons of the late Lord Vortigern, and Morholt of Ireland.

Morholt was a mountain of a man, his horse matching King Horsa's for size but to accommodate his muscle weight instead of the weight of his appetite. Besides the warrior, Queen Rience appeared to be the most formidable foe before them. She did not sneer at Arthur and his allies like Cenred, Claudus, and Lucius. She did not glare at them like Lord Vortimer and his brother Catigern. Her gaze was cold as ice and promised torture to her fallen enemies without even a twitch of her mouth up or down.

"I see you heard about our little party," Cenred finally broke the silence with a grin. "This is preferable, actually. I would have hated to have to bring all the guests to you. Would have taken days, and everyone knows meat is better when it's fresh."

Bagdemagus made a soft noise through his nose that might have been a scoff while Horsa looked generally offended.

Arthur frowned. "Whatever you call this, King Cenred, Camelot and her allies wish no part of it," he said. "Fighting will only lead to unnecessary deaths on both sides. Lay down your arms so we may talk peacefully. I am willing to listen to any qualms you have against me, but do not bring armies into it. Please," he added after a short pause.

Claudus snorted rudely. "Only those in the position of the loser say such things," he sneered. "Your army is no match for ours. You are scared and so you beg for mercy. But listen, little prince," Arthur bristled slightly at the use of the wrong title, "you will receive none from me."

"Where is the sorcerer?"

Instead of snapping back at Claudus, Arthur looked at Vortimer and Catigern. It was the elder brother, Vortimer, dressed in a deep maroon tunic over chainmail that matched his brother's, who had spoken. Before Arthur could respond, Catigern also spoke up.

"Bring him to us. We demand his head in payment for our father's death," he stated roughly, his voice sounding as if his throat were made of sandpaper.

It wasn't hard to understand why they were angry. Arthur was still upset with Morgause and Agravaine for killing his own father, though Agravaine had long since paid for his transgressions by Arthur's hand, and Morgause at Merlin's. Still Arthur couldn't find it in himself to sympathize with the brothers. Their father had been a cruel, deceitful man. Besides that, Merlin was only partly responsible for the lord's death. Arthur didn't think that argument would win him any points with them though.

"Demand denied," Arthur replied, tone sharp like the edge of his sword. Vortimer and Catigern both recoiled and glared harder at him.

Before Arthur or the brothers could say more, a female voice said, "Of course you may have the boy wizard's head." All ten leaders gathered turned to watch as Queen Annis and King Caerleon trotted up on horseback. They pulled to a halt when they were within a few steps of Arthur's side. Then Queen Annis looked Catigern in the eyes and said, "If you can take it."

The insult to their strength almost had the two young lords drawing their swords and starting the battle right then and there. Instead, Morholt and Cenred both reached over to stop them. Morholt grabbed Catigern's sword before it could be fully drawn, heedless of its sharp blade, while Cenred simply held up his hand in front of Vortimer's face.

King Caerleon barely paid them any mind. "Sorry we're late, Arthur," he said in a friendly tone, despite the looming battle. Caerleon wasn't a man quick to smile and Arthur thought he did so just then only to antagonize their enemies. Queen Rience looked more dangerous than ever.

Arthur nodded to him. "You are right on time, Caerleon." He looked at Cenred and his company. "Am I to understand there is no chance for peace today but through battle?"

"You are," Cenred said with a nod.

Arthur sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that. The next time I see you, you'll be on the blade of my sword."

Cenred gave a patronizing smile. "We'll see whose blade goes through whom."

...

...

The battle began swiftly. Lancelot wasn't even certain who struck first. One moment they were standing and listening to Arthur give a rallying pre-battle speech, the next they were in a swarm of armored bodies, everyone with weapons drawn and attacking one another. It was madness! There were men in every color tunic rushing around him and it was all Lancelot could do not to hit an ally when striking at an enemy.

A blast of blue fire shot by him and he had to jump to the left to avoid it searing his arm. A glance at the magic caster proved it to be one of King Horsa's men, looking vaguely apologetic for only a moment before he charged further into battle. Lancelot shook his head. He was glad that their allies had brought magic users along, as it evened the field of battle, but he wished they had better aim. Merlin had definitely never nearly hit someone he wasn't actually aiming at.

He didn't have long to ponder skill levels though, as he was facing a new enemy - one of Queen Rience's men. Their swords met with sparks flying, metal grinding against metal, the bang and clang of battle. The other man held Lancelot's blade up with his own, then removed one hand from his sword hilt and unsheathed a dagger from his belt. Lancelot had just shoved the man back, keeping the dagger too far away to be of use, when there was a deafening roar from behind him. He didn't need to look to know that Merlin's dragons had just burst forth from the trees to join the battle. His foe startled so badly at the noise that he nearly fell on his butt, giving Lancelot ample opening to run his blade through the man's stomach and leave him on the battlefield.

Lancelot grabbed the fallen dagger from the ground swiftly, then stood up and flung it at an approaching Essetirian knight, catching the man in the neck just above his armor. The man's eyes flew wide a moment before he fell dead to the ground.

Only then did Lancelot take a moment to actually see the field of battle around him. There were a good dozen men running away in fear of the dragons flying overhead. The red dragon chased them down, coughing balls of fire at them one by one like it was a game. The big dragon was tormenting a group of eight magic users on the far side of the field, and the white dragon had just picked up a man that had injured a Caerleon knight. Lancelot turned away as the knight was dropped from a height too great to survive.

Turning away meant he caught sight of Bors fighting Claudus a short distance away. Claudus knocked Bors off balance and then slid around behind the younger man. Lancelot was already running to help, wishing he'd saved that dagger, when Claudus's blade caught Bors heavily in the side.

"Bors!" Lancelot shouted, the other knight already falling to his knees.

Claudus pulled his sword from Bors' side, Bors letting out a wet gag and hitting the ground on his uninjured side, and met Lancelot's initial blow. The high sound their meeting blades made only seemed to make Lancelot's heart beat faster. Claudus forced him back and Lancelot had to give or risk a wound to the face.

"Bors, hang on!" Lancelot called to his fallen friend. Only the pained sounds of Bors' breathing proved he was still alive.

"I'd worry about yourself," Claudus commented.

A strike from behind caught Lancelot in the left arm and only his chainmail kept it from being a serious wound. As it was, he was still bleeding but in no danger of losing an arm. Lancelot turned to face his new opponent, his sword giving them a matching wound as he thrust out while turning. It was one of Claudus's men, his face already dirty and sweaty from previous skirmishes. It was clear that the men from Terre Deserte did not fight fair.

Lancelot moved away from where Claudus was standing to avoid another sneak attack, then swung out at his new opponent. The man parried easily but did not attempt his own assault. It only took a moment for Lancelot to realize he was biding time, as long as it took for Bors to cry out in pain.

Glancing over, Lancelot saw that Claudus had forced Bors back to his knees and facing Lancelot. Bors' skin was ashy and his eyes shining.

"Lance-" Bors said in warning, and Lancelot looked away in time to parry the attack thrown at him by the enemy knight.

Claudus raised his blade. Lancelot feinted an attack to the left before dropping low and carving a hole in his opponent's chainmail and fleshy side. Bors made a small sound mostly lost to the din of battle around them. Lancelot turned away from the injured enemy, meaning to attack Claudus next, but found himself unable to move.

Bors was lying face down in the dirt, except that it wasn't face down at all because his face wasn't there.

Claudus held up Bors' head like a trophy, blood dripping from the jagged cut that had severed it from the body. Lancelot felt bile rise in his throat and gagged. It would not do to be sick now and make himself vulnerable. But he also couldn't make his body move and that could prove just as deadly.

With a loud burst of laughter, Claudus tossed Bors' head to the side, no longer a trophy and instead a sack of bad potatoes. Lancelot jolted like he'd been punched when he heard it hit the ground. A knight, Lancelot didn't know from which army, tripped over it and killed himself on his own blade.

What was wrong with the world? It felt like everything had turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. Who would kill another human like that and then laugh about it?

He barely paid any mind to the blade coming at him, sloppily knocking it away from his vital organs. The attack hit his leg instead. The pain, and the way he hit the ground a moment later, shocked Lancelot's senses back to the battle at hand. Claudus stepped on his chest and Lancelot felt the metal that adorned his boots dig into his chainmail. Even through all his layers, he swore he'd begun to bleed.

His sword was on the ground instead of in his hand and Lancelot was staring up into the face of a crazed man, unable to force his body to obey him. Again Claudus pulled his sword back, no doubt to behead Lancelot the way he had beheaded Bors.

"I'll make myself a collection," Claudus announced calmly before scowling. "You knights provide no challenge."

_So this is how it ends,_ Lancelot thought.

_"No,"_ Gwen's voice said. _"I know that tone and I won't hear it. You're going to win. You're going to come back, alive. Do you understand? Don't you doubt it."_

Lancelot's hand closed around the hilt of his sword just as a large dark form collided with Claudus knocking him bodily off Lancelot and to the earth. Lancelot was on his feet before he recognized Lionel as his savior, slashing at Claudus in a fashion similar to a wild animal attack.

"You bastard!" he was shouting, his voice so deep and full of rage that his words were nigh unintelligible. "I'll kill you!"

Claudus knocked Lionel back, making him nearly crash into Lancelot. "No challenge at all," Claudus repeated in irritation.

Lancelot clapped a hand on Lionel's shoulder before the older man could run at Claudus again. "Help me," he said when he had Lionel's gaze on him.

Without any more words, Lancelot made sure his grip was true on his sword, shook his head, and charged ahead. There were only three steps between him and the corrupt king, but by the time he'd taken them it was like walking into a light fog. He slashed at Claudus, who took a step back - the fog following him like a shroud. Claudus struck back but the attack hit an invisible shield instead. Then Lionel was attacking from the side and Lancelot from the front at the same moment.

Claudus couldn't move fast enough and Lancelot sliced through the mail over his stomach at the same time that Lionel cut off his right arm at the elbow. They both jumped back out of reach while he screamed murder at them. His remaining hand gripped his sword tightly and he lashed out, but every consecutive swing was wilder and weaker, until he fell to the ground, his blood mixing with that of Bors.

...

...

Tristan ducked as a white dragon flew low over the battlefield, using the momentum to cut the legs of his opponent. The middle aged man cried out in pain and fell to his knees. Tristan kissed his hand and then held it out toward the man, who looked at him anxiously.

"Sceaotan," he intoned like a lyric. He felt the small tingle of magic as it rushed through him to complete the spell. The man was jolted backward sharply, and when he landed several feet away, he didn't get back up.

Tristan was still getting to his feet when someone let out a battle cry and sprinted toward him. The poor guy never even got close. Almost before Tristan could get his blade up to block the attack, the man jolted and fell to the ground, an arrow in the side of his head.

Looking to the side, Tristan saw dozens of men on horseback and dozens more on foot already spreading out to join the battle. They were dressed in the rich blues and earthy browns of a nation Tristan knew intimately.

"Mark!" he called to the one wearing full armor on horseback as they lowered their crossbow.

"We heard you could use some assistance," the king said with a grim grin. "I hope we're not too late."

Tristan barely looked as he cut down another enemy with a quick flick of his wrist, sending rocks and dirt clods from the ground crashing into two men sneaking up behind him. "Just the opposite. You're right on time," he replied.

Mark's grin was more amused now. "I see you were not making light of your new skills under the Court Sorcerer's tutelage." He reloaded his crossbow and felled a man near another Camelot knight. "And you have dragons as well?"

Tristan gave a half shrug as the red dragon dropped a burning tree on a group of men from the Western Isles. "I'd rather put my faith in men."

With a nod of agreement, Mark holstered his bow and unsheathed his sword. "Where is Arthur?"

"Last I saw of him, he was near the heart of the battle." He gave Mark's horse a single pat on the neck. "Have strength."

"You as well." Mark's horse reared, kicking a man in the chest, just before he took off swiftly in the direction Tristan had said.

Magic was a strange thing. Tristan could tell where several of his comrades were even without seeing them, and he just knew, without proof, that it was due to the pendants he had carved for them. Luke, wearing a lizard, was to his left. Percival, with a turtle, was behind him. Gareth, wearing a cricket, was just ahead of him to the right. He hadn't even thought of a spell when carving the necklaces, only of the desire to protect and the prayer for long life for the wearers. But he had felt the magic seep into them with every drag of his knife, shaping them into the creatures they would become. And now, even as he fought in this retched battle and couldn't see them, Tristan knew they were alright.

He wished he could have given one to every knight of Camelot, but he thought perhaps the pull of the magic would've been too much, too distracting, and he would have been unable to fight as a result. If they survived this battle, he would have to ask Merlin about it.

There was a tug in his chest and Tristan flipped around and rushed toward Percival. Without saying a word, the man bearing down on their second youngest knight was knocked backward off his feet. Then Tristan was there, pulling Percival up off the ground in one swift movement.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Percival nodded. "I'll be fine." There was a cut on his cheek and a bit of blood on his hands, but nothing appeared life threatening.

The man he'd thrown back let out an angry groan and pushed himself up. Tristan only cast him a passing glance at first, but then he stared openly.

Morholt.

Memories rushed through Tristan's head in a split second. Bruises on Isolde's arms and stomach. A cut on her leg. A poor farmer's son dead with a spear through his chest. Isolde weeping in his arms but refusing to run away with him. Mark with a proclamation from a foreign lord, pay up or die. A laughing, haunting smile and dead eyes. A blade in the night, hitting feathers instead of skin by sheer luck. An arrow catching in wood instead of bone because someone dropped a plate of sweetmeats.

"Go, Percival," he said, his voice foreign to his own ears.

Percival looked at him in concern. "Tristan, what-"

"Go," Tristan repeated without taking his eyes off the rising form of an old enemy. "I'll handle this one."

When Morholt's eyes landed on Tristan, he gave that same haunting smile from years ago. Percival saw it, nodded, and clapped a hand on Tristan's shoulder.

"Good luck."

Tristan only knew where he'd run off to because of the magic that still protected him. For it truly must have protected him if Morholt had gotten him on the ground and he wasn't dead.

"Young Tristan," Morholt ground out, his voice sounding like gravel and his skin looking sickly yellow in the sun. "Seems we're connected by fate, boy."

"A fate I wish to be rid of," Tristan commented. "Ábregdan."

Once more, rocks and earth rose up at his command. Morholt only looked shocked for two seconds before his smile was back.

"An old dog wit' new tricks," he said dismissively.

Morholt's sword was too wide for any normal man to use practically, but he swung it with speed and efficiency every time. Tristan dodged to the right even as he said, "Scéotan," and sent the rocks flying at Morholt.

There were at least thirty projectiles in the attack, but Morholt brushed it off like a few gnats. This time when he attacked, his blade caught Tristan across the stomach. It was a superficial wound, but one that stung nonetheless.

With an angry snarl, Morholt grabbed the nearest other soldier to him and snapped their neck. Tristan didn't flinch.

"That was one of your allies," he commented dully.

"Wos it?" Morholt asked. It was obvious he didn't care.

Tristan darted in, under the swing of Morholt's sword, and got a slice in on the bigger man's upper right leg while passing him. Morholt winced but didn't fall. He turned around, lashing out with his sword as he did. Two men, one from Gorre and one from Jutil, were cut down in the attack.

This was Morholt's style. He led men into battle but he didn't care who he hurt once he was in the thick of it. He killed indiscriminately, friend and foe alike. And it was always bloody.

Tristan swung his sword in a circle once and then took on a defensive stance. He would wait for Morholt to make the next move, and it would be his last.

"This makes two kings I love that you've attacked, and it will be two kings you fail to kill," Tristan said evenly, despite the anger churning in his gut.

Morholt's face crinkled in disgust, but he didn't get a chance to speak before Tristan felt himself get bowled over. His sword fell with a dull thud into the dirt several feet away from where he found himself sprawled on the ground. Ten feet away stood a sorcerer knight dressed in the clothes of the Western Isles. As they walked forward, they were whispering spells.

"Nerung!" Tristan half shouted, holding up his arm.

The shielding spell worked, as it very well should have considering how long Merlin had them practice it, but Tristan felt it weaken with every blow. He wished he was strong enough to guard and attack at the same time, but his magic was limited.

It turned out he didn't need to worry about the shield failing. Morholt stabbed the man through from the back and glared at him as he fell. Tristan's shield dropped when Morholt turned his attention to him.

"If an'one be killin you, it'll be me," he grumbled.

"I feel the same about you," Tristan agreed, mentally taking stock of his weapons. His sword was still too far away, but he had a dagger in his belt near his back. "But unlike you, I would not kill a man for the honor."

As if called by Tristan's words, Breunor and one of Cornwall's men were suddenly upon them, with two enemy knights trailing behind them. When the man from Cornwall nearly tripped over Tristan, still on the ground, he stopped running.

"Tristan!" he gasped.

"Simon," Tristan greeted. "Been awhile."

Simon turned and parried the slash aimed at him from his pursuer. When the blade was knocked wide, Simon took a step forward and elbowed the other man in the face. Breunor had followed Simon's example, turning to fight instead of running, and the clang of sword upon sword drew Tristan's attention as he stood up.

Now four people were between Tristan and Morholt. He pulled the dagger from his belt and took a deep breath. Then, sprinting forward, Tristan dodged around his two friends to attack Morholt. Morholt raised his blade to defend, but there was no sword to parry. Tristan dropped under the blade and came up once it was past him, then jabbed his dagger into Morholt's chest two times in quick succession.

Morholt cried out in anger, blood now oozing down his chest. He landed a punch to Tristan's face and Tristan cried out when his nose fractured - and maybe his cheek, but at least it wasn't a sword wound or poison, one of Morholt's favorite killers.

Simon gasped and Tristan turned to watch as the man from Cymry pulled his short sword from Simon's gut. "Simon!" he shouted, receiving a head butt for his distraction that made him stagger backward. His foot landed on something hard, nearly making him slip. A quick glance down showed it was his sword.

Occupied as he was, it was not Tristan but Breunor who killed the man responsible for wounding Simon. Breunor was bleeding from a head wound, the blood on his face half blinding him, but he stood over Simon and attacked any who would come near the younger man.

The rage that had been simmering in Tristan during his fight with Morholt burned hotter. Simon was someone he had grown up with, had trained himself at times. Simon was a good man and didn't deserve to die.

Tristan snatched his sword from the earth, his dagger in one hand and his sword in the other, just in time to knock a thrust by Morholt wide. It was a clumsy move, but it was enough. Morholt was slowing due to his wounds, more severe than Tristan's own bleeding stomach and without the adrenaline forcing him onward. In the split second Morholt was off balance, Tristan got in close and drove his dagger into Morholt's neck. Without pause, he released the dagger, leaving it in the large man's throat, and ran him through with the sword.

The ground nearby lit with flames from a dragon's breath as Morholt's body hit the ground. Tristan barely had time to process that he had won before a shout pulled his focus. He ripped his sword from Morholt's stomach, took the brute's blade as well and sheathed it, and pulled the dagger out as well. The dagger was immediately lost as he tossed it into the belly of an approaching Cymry man. Then Tristan turned to find Breunor still fighting, but with two arrows - Western Isles by make it looked like - sticking from his back.

He didn't glance back at his fallen archenemy even once for the rest of the battle. There were more important things to focus on.

...

...

As glad as he was for the assistance of dragons in battle, King Horsa also hated them. They had startled his horse so bad with their roars that he was thrown to the ground. It ran away before he could even find his feet. A mighty destrier indeed.

Despite his girth, Horsa was not a slow man, and he had built his kingdom in conquest - a warlord capable of recognizing when to stop. Already two dozen men had fallen to his blade and he did not pause to mourn them or check on his allies. In battle, he kept all of his senses on his immediate surroundings. Where was the next enemy? Was someone sneaking up behind him? How should he go about killing the next opponent to stand against him?

Just as he finished off the latest in said opponents, Horsa found himself facing a fellow king. Vortimer, son of a warlord like Horsa. But a son was not his father, and Vortimer was not the warrior his father was. Horsa knew from experience that Vortimer and Catigern were both spoiled by their father's successes, petulant and greedy and short sighted. They could not see past their father's death to the future -under Arthur or Cenred.

"Have you come to face me, scoundrel?" he greeted contemptuously.

Vortimer grimaced. "If I must go through you to reach my father's murderer, then so be it."

Horsa had no idea where Camelot's Court Sorcerer was on the battlefield and he didn't care. He would end this petty noble and his blind soul here and now on this battlefield of his own choosing.

Another man came up on Vortimer's left and the young lord disposed of him swiftly with one cut of his blade. Immediately, he attacked Horsa. It was a painfully short battle.

Horsa parried and then made a sideways slash, which Vortimer dodged before thrusting forward. A child's mistake, as it left him completely open. All Horsa had to do was shift slightly to the right and bring his sword back to center. The attack landed, cutting deep into Vortimer's side despite his mail and padding.

The young lord did not fall, held up by Horsa's grip on his own sword. He frowned as blood began to drip from his lips.

"You should have known better," Horsa told him, a modicum of regret in his voice.

In a fit of speed and strength Horsa would never have expected from a dying man, Vortimer unsheathed a short sword and drove it into Horsa's chest, mere centimeters from his heart.

"So. should. you," Vortimer forced out before his eyes lost all shine and he went limp on Horsa's blade.

Horsa could only gasp as his world went dark. His thoughts drifted from the battle to King Arthur to his own brother's son, who would become king of Kent now. The boy was strong and smart and would follow Horsa's example and align their people with Camelot. He had no regrets, except that he fell in battle to such a child.

...

...

The battle, as far as Merlin could tell, was going well. The dragons had killed off a good number of their enemies already, though they had to be careful not to kill allies as well which hampered them a bit. The knights he had been teaching magic to were holding their own, assisting those who did not have magic from every allied nation. He had caught sight of Arthur several times already, still going strong.

Yet it seemed that for every enemy they killed, two more appeared. The ground was becoming littered with dead and dying bodies but the battle showed no signs of slowing.

"Cléofan," he said as two men rushed him from either side. Their swords broke from their hilts, leaving them both without weapons and causing them to stumble to a halt mere feet from where Merlin stood. "ætniman ǽðm."

Both men dropped their sword hilts and grabbed their throats, gasping for several seconds before collapsing to the ground. It made Merlin sick to use a spell once used against Camelot, but killing people always made his stomach roll, no matter what manner the death came in.

Lightning struck the ground ten feet to Merlin's left and he jumped, eyes searching for the sorcerer strong enough to cast that spell. A knight from Jutil was left, dead, when the lightning was gone. And there, moving swiftly through the hordes of fighters, was a young boy. He wasn't wearing any chainmail, only druid robes, but no one seemed able to get near him.

_Mordred._

Bright blue eyes lifted to meet his. A nod. _We fight with you this day._

Any further conversation was dropped when a straw haired boy crashed into Mordred, sending them both to the ground. Luke was up instantly, his hand extended toward whomever he'd hit, ready to unleash some spell or another, but he stopped.

Merlin had just enough time to see Luke hurriedly pull Mordred to his feet, saying something that was lost in the sounds of battle, before a cry of "Merlin!" made him turn his attention elsewhere.

He gasped, seeing the blade coming down on his head. A blade made of magic appeared and caught the attack mere inches from Merlin's hair, giving him time to stumble out of the way. Catigern glared at him and pulled his sword back. The magic blade remained.

"You think your fake blade can stand up to my steel one?" he asked, insulted.

Merlin gave a hapless shrug. "I sure hope so."

He'd lost his own sword some time ago and hadn't managed to steal a new one yet. Fighting without one was easier for him anyway, as his magic had always been a better weapon for him than a blade.

Before he'd lost the weapon, he'd received a cut on his arm just below his shoulder and found himself eating dirt multiple times. His blue undershirt had been ripped near the elbow just above his vambraces, the fabric hanging loose and stained over the metal. His mail was stained in places with blood, but it was from enemies and not himself, thank goodness. Since he'd begun using only his magic to fight, Merlin hadn't been hit once. He was quite proud of that.

"You murdered my father," Catigern sneered, "but you won't kill me."

"I'll kill anyone who tries to harm Arthur or Camelot," Merlin said, the words coming easily and truthfully without thought.

"Good for me then, because I only want to harm you."

With that sentiment still hanging in the air, Catigern attacked again. Merlin's eyes flashed gold as he said, "Pyrtan."

The ethereal blade met Catigern's own with a crack like thunder. It knocked Catigern's sword aside and made an upward slash, cutting through Catigern's tunic but not much else as the young lord stepped quickly back.

"Not bad," Catigern admitted. "But not good enough."

He made to swipe sideways at Merlin but changed tactics just as Merlin's sword moved to meet him. Instead, his attack was a forward thrust that sliced through Merlin' tunic and mail on his right side. Merlin let out a short cry and staggered away, his hand clapping down over the wound. A flash of his eyes and a second sword joined the first.

Catigern smirked. "You can barely manage one sword. What makes you think you can handle two?"

And he was right. The two blades meant Merlin could block twice the attacks and try twice as many attacks of his own, but his moves were shoddy at best. He barely missed a strike that would've taken off his head and the only blow he landed to Catigern was to his upper left arm and hardly fatal.

There was a loud bird call and Merlin's eyes shot to the sky. A hundred or more birds were streaming from the tree line nearby. They began to dive bomb enemy soldiers, pecking and clawing at any exposed skin they could find. Archimedes led the charge, taking out an enemy horse with the help of four other falcons larger than himself.

Pain erupted in his gut. Merlin choked out a gasp and tore his gaze from the sky. Catigern had a victorious look in his eyes and for good reason. The lord stepped forward and his blade embedded itself further into Merlin's stomach, the blade pushing straight through to protrude from his back. Sounds were leaving Merlin's mouth but they weren't even enough to be considered gasps or grunts.

"Don't ever get distracted," Catigern hissed, his foul breath playing across Merlin's face.

A terrible roar echoed across the field and suddenly Catigern was gone. The force with which he was ripped away moved the blade and further tore at Merlin's body, making him cry out. He was only vaguely aware of Kilgharrah flying away with Catigern in his claws, of the screams of the young lord as he was faced with such a large beast, of the way his screams abruptly cut off as he was lost in Kilgharrah's mouth.

Merlin reached up to the blade, but he couldn't feel his hands and they wouldn't listen to him when he tried to wrap his fingers around the hilt. His knees gave out and he crashed to the ground, crying out when it jostled the sword and wounded him further.

He had to get the blade out. He had to get up. He had to keep fighting. He had to find Arthur. He had to. He had to...

"Merlin!"

Gwaine was there but Merlin didn't remember his running over. The sky above was dark with clouds, as if it were about to rain. The knight jostled him, making Merlin give a short yell of pain but also clearing his head of the fog that had descended.

"Merlin, don't you die! Don't you dare!" Gwaine was saying.

There was a burning tree less than ten feet to the left and Saxones was rampaging to the right, bowling men over with her tail and throwing others with her mouth. Their enemies were too busy trying to fight her off to pay attention to Gwaine, which was good as Gwaine had dropped his sword and couldn't defend himself while holding on to Merlin.

"G-gwaine," Merlin gasped out.

"Tha's it, Merlin. Tha's it. Stay with us," Gwaine encouraged.

Merlin reached up to grab at the sword, forced out of him by several inches as Gwaine had shifted him around. The hilt was too far away for Merlin to grab it, and the blood on his hands was so slick he couldn't have gripped it even if his fingers would cooperate.

"Gw-...Pull," he struggled to say, tasting blood in his mouth.

Gwaine shook his head. "You'll bleed out if I remove it," he said, voice shaking. "Ya've just got ta hold on 'til we can get a healer to ya. Ya hear me?"

Merlin managed a weak shake of his head. The world was going dark around the edges. "T-t-t-t-rust me. Just. Just-" He wheezed and couldn't finish.

For what felt like an eternity, Gwaine just stared at him, eyes searching Merlin's face. Then he gave a solemn nod and gripped the hilt of the sword. With a deep breath and one last glance at Merlin's pale face, he pulled. The blade came out, but not smoothly, and Merlin cried and gasped the whole time.

Seconds after it was removed, the pain vanished. The darkness receded from his eyes. His strength returned.

As expected.

Merlin pushed himself up to his knees and wrapped his hand around Gwaine's on the sword hilt as the clouds dispersed, leaving clear skies once more. "I'll take that, thanks."

Gwaine's mouth was hanging open. "Wh-what?" His eyes darted from Merlin's face to his hand to his stomach and around again. "Ya lost me."

Merlin shook his head. "I'll explain later, Gwaine, but right now there isn't time. We've got a war to win. Come on."

As he stood up, Gwaine releasing the sword to him, Merlin glanced down at himself. His mail and tunic were soaked in blood now, and there was no missing the hole left behind by the sword. Merlin looked at Catigern's sword, etched with magic runes to make it sharper and stronger, and broke it into six pieces with a flash of his eyes. Then he tossed the hilt into the dirt and reached a bloody hand out to Gwaine.

"Saxones can only hold them off for so long. She's just a baby. We need to help her," he said.

With one more bemused blink, Gwaine slowly reached out to grasp Merlin's hand. He nodded and helped Merlin pull him to his feet, snatching up his own sword along the way. Then they rushed over to the dragon, who let out a surprised but pleased sound at the sight of Merlin up on his feet and gladly accepted their assistance.

Merlin had hoped to keep his apparent immortality secret for awhile longer, but it seemed that decision was taken out of his hands. But on the bright side, he could use his talk with Gwaine when this was over as practice for revealing it to Arthur.

...

...

There was no strength in his body but his grip on his sword never faltered. He couldn't fight back. Gareth gasped as his sword sliced through a man from Cornwall. As the man fell dead to the ground, there was a pleasant sounding laugh from behind him.

"Good boy," the woman said. "You follow orders well."

Gareth couldn't even grit his teeth in agitation. He couldn't turn around and glare at the red haired woman who had ensorcelled him. She was beautiful and her spells sounded like songs. Just laying eyes on her had spelled Gareth's doom. His body immediately rushed to her, taking out anyone in his way be they friend or foe, and now he defended her simply because she had told him to.

He felt her hands on his shoulders. "You are such a strong knight," she said, her breath lightly dancing across the skin of his neck and making him shiver. "But all men are weak against me. All it takes is a momentary glance."

A man from Kent saw them and, for a moment, it seemed he would come to Gareth's aid. But it was only for a moment. Then his eyes landed on the sorceress and all the fight went out of him. Like Gareth, he rushed forward.

The witch released him with an order of, "Kill him."

Gareth's sword was up and deflecting the enemy strike without his conscious thought. He saw a flash of Camelot red dart by and felt fear in the pit of his stomach. His blade cut into the Kent's shoulder but the man just knocked the blade away and retaliated, managing a shallow stab in Gareth's chest before he could move back far enough.

It hurt, but wouldn't kill him and his body didn't even pause to take stock of that. While he continued to trade blows with the man from Kent, his thoughts returned to the flash of red. He prayed to all the gods in all the world that Kay wouldn't walk by. None of the Camelot knights would be preferable, but _please no, not Kay._

Of course that was when Kay spotted him, just as he cut down the knight he was fighting.

Their eyes met - Kay's confused and Gareth didn't know if his own even showed recognition. A hand touched Gareth's cheek and Kay's eyes drifted. _No no no no no don't look Kay don't look!_ But he did, and his gaze went blank. Then he looked at Gareth with hate and rushed at him, sword poised for a heavy blow.

The hand at his cheek was gone. Gareth saw the witch move to the side to watch the fight. Gareth's sword came up to block Kay's attack. It only half worked and he felt the blade cut his cheek, the blood begin to drip down his chin and neck.

He cut Kay's arm near his right hand and would've taken the hand clean off if Kay hadn't cast that shield spell at the last second. Gareth would have to thank Merlin personally when this was over. Then Kay had him on the ground with another whispered spell. He climbed on top of Gareth, pinning him down with his legs in a way much less pleasurable than usual. Their mail clinked and rattled as it brushed together.

_Kay. Kay stop no. Kay Kay Kay Kay!_

But Kay couldn't hear his mental shouts. His angry expression and dead eyes remained as he lifted his sword, ready to plunge it into Gareth's heart.

_I love you, Kay! Please, no!_

Gareth's body jolted in a moment of pain, Kay's too. And then Gareth was breathing freely, his chest aching from his earlier wound. Kay's eyes were wide in fear and he jumped off Gareth as if he'd been burned, dropping his sword like it was a snake.

The spell was over. For a moment Gareth entertained the fairytale idea that it was his inner shout of love that had done it. Then both he and Kay looked over at the witch. Luned was staring her dead in the eyes, his sword buried deep in her chest and a gash up her front where Luned had cut her open. As the witch fell, eyes wide open, to the dirt, Luned let out a heavy breath.

"You both alright?" he asked, wiping dirt from his face but only succeeding in marring the skin with blood instead.

Gareth and Kay looked at each other. Kay shook his head. "Gareth, I-I'm so sorry."

"It's alright," Gareth assured him. He grabbed Kay's sword and walked it over to him. Holding it out, he said, "I know you would never hurt me."

A blast of water like a huge wave on the beach rushed by them, mist wetting their armor. All three knights turned to watch it take out eight enemy soldiers who had been advancing on them in the blink of an eye, then to the sorcerer who had cast it. Luke lowered his hand and turned a beaming smile to a slighter shorter, dark haired boy that they all recognized as the leader of the sorcerer army from not long ago.

"I guess they're on our side now then?" Luned asked.

"Looks that way," Kay answered. He pulled Gareth abruptly into a brief hug. He made eye contact with Gareth when he pulled away, expression intense, and grabbed him by the cheek. "Find me when it's over."

Without waiting for a response, he ran off into the fray. Gareth slowly turned to look at Luned, but the youngest knight just shrugged.

"He's your boyfriend."

Gareth's mouth dropped open. "You-"

But Luned was already following Kay's example and rejoining the battle. Gareth shook his head to clear it. Personal matters had to wait. He had to make sure both he and Kay survived this mess.

...

...

The battle was winding down, and Arthur was proud to see that most of those still standing were his allies. It wasn't over yet but it would be soon. One more person needed to die to end this, and Arthur was standing across from him.

Cenred.

Arthur had already managed to cut Cenred's face and the mail covering both of his arms was in tatters, the fabric of his pants turning dark with blood from the wound left high on his right leg. In turn, Cenred had nicked Arthur's neck and given him a cut on the arm that was sluggishly bleeding. He'd lost a few hairs to a close call when the sky had darkened and he'd been distracted, and he'd received enough broadside blows since battle began that he was certain he'd be black and blue all over tomorrow, if not right now.

"Give up, Arthur," Cenred ordered, his voice strained from fighting. "As soon as you do, your armies will follow, and everyone left alive will live."

Their swords met, the metal so close to both of their faces that a loss of strength would result in a facial wound. It was Cenred, earning himself a matching cut on both cheeks now, who had to back off.

"You know I used to be quite handsome before today."

Arthur scowled. "Vanity isn't becoming, Cenred."

He parried a downward slash and then stepped to the right and sliced upward. Cenred knocked it wide, only barely avoiding losing his leg.

"I'm sure your sorcerer pays you plenty of compliments while you ride him like a wild mare," Cenred commented with a smirk.

Arthur clamped down on any anger the loose phrase caused and dodged Cenred's next attack. "Actually, he points out my flaws. You should get someone to pay you the same courtesy. It's remarkably refreshing."

Cenred's smirk disappeared at Arthur's ready acceptance of the claim he was sleeping with Merlin. Which is exactly why Arthur did it. He knew Cenred was attempting to anger and distract him. It helped that he knew every true intimate detail of his and Merlin's times spent alone in his chambers, and that Cenred was trying to bluff his way to a victory because he didn't.

The foreign king was so thrown that Arthur managed to catch him in the side with his sword. Cenred stumbled several steps to the side before regaining his battle stance, his gaze harder than before.

"You will not wound me again," he swore.

Arthur shook his head. "I promised you would end this battle on my sword. I intend to keep it."

Pain in his right shoulder made him shout and turn his head. A man with a crossbow smirked at him. King Mark cut him down from horseback before he could reload, then glanced at Arthur. Arthur nodded and broke the arrow halfway down the shaft. It hurt something fierce, but it was better than having the whole arrow sticking out for someone to grab - like Cenred.

Cenred attacked as Mark rode toward a new enemy. He aimed for Arthur's now weakened right side. It hurt to grip Excalibur and to tense his muscles to hold off Cenred's attacks, but Arthur knew that Excalibur would keep him standing and fighting.

A dragon flew just over their heads, the red one, throwing a tree at fleeing soldiers. Arthur could hear the fires that were burning all over the field and in the forest nearby. Horses were neighing in distress and men were shouting. They really needed to end this battle soon. And Arthur needed to find the strength to make it happen.

Using mostly his left hand, Arthur knocked Cenred's sword down and into the dirt. Then he rammed into the king, knocking him off balance. He lifted his sword, wincing, to deliver the killing blow, and then felt a shock run through his entire body. His hands seized up and Excalibur tumbled to the ground. It was like facing Mordred all over again, unable to move his body, but worse because this time it hurt.

"Thank you, Leofric," Cenred noted offhand as he retrieved his sword. That must've been the sorcerer but Arthur couldn't see him. "You see, Pendragon, I have the upper hand. Your laws in support of magic are too new to do you any good, while magic was never outlawed in my kingdom. I have my pick of the lot, and they will fight for me." He placed the tip of his sword to Arthur's chest. "Now let me fulfill _my_ promise to you," he finished.

"You will never control the people of Camelot. They will not follow you," Arthur stated defiantly.

Cenred raised an eyebrow. "Oh I think they will."

Delicate fingers wrapped around Cenred's neck from behind and his eyes widened. He gasped, dropping his sword, as black lines began to trail down his neck, following his veins, until they were lost under his armor. Moments later, the whites of his eyes also turned dark and he went limp, crashing to the ground.

The spell holding Arthur in place released and Arthur flipped around to see Mordred walking away from the broken body of a man dressed in Cenred's colors and into the crowd of fighters.

"I had everything under control," Arthur asserted as he turned back to face his sister.

Morgana wiped her hands on her robes delicately. "Oh I'm sure you did, dear brother. That's why you were about to be speared like a pig for feast."

Arthur frowned. She wasn't wrong, but giving in to Morgana wasn't an option. "I had a plan."

"Of course," she agreed with an indulgent smile. "Don't worry, there's no need to thank me."

"I wasn't going to thank you."

"I know."

Arthur groaned. "I don't know why I miss you sometimes."

Now Morgana's smile was kinder. "Because we're family." Her gaze hardened. "Now end this stupid war. Enough people have died already."

...

...

"And I...Queen Rience of the Western Isles...do pledge...to always and forever follow you...King...Pendragon...To never quarrel with you, to support you in times of need...and to obey the laws of Camelot...or suffer the death of a traitor."

Arthur nodded. It had obviously hurt Queen Rience to say those words, but she had given her oath and he had to accept they would remain true for the foreseeable future.

"I accept your oath, my lady, and hope that both Camelot and the Western Isles will flourish under our new alliance," he said.

She scowled but held her tongue, and when she stood from her place kneeling before the throne, two Camelot knights moved to stand with her. Rience bowed, wincing from the pull of still healing wounds, and then turned and walked slowly from the throne room.

With that, all post battle duties were completed.

The enemy armies were already on their way back to their respective kingdoms, with escorts and new laws to govern them. The injured, both friend and foe alike, had been tended to, and the dead given funeral rights. Cymry, Terre Deserte and Essetir were now under Camelot's control and would be absorbed into the kingdom in due course. A messenger had been sent to Ireland to alert them to Morholt's actions and his fate. An allegiance, though rocky, had been made with the Western Isles. Jutil had been given to King Caerleon once its ruler, Lucius, had been banished across the sea for refusing to swear allegiance to Arthur and spitting on his shoes.

Camelot's allies were still in the capital, though they would be leaving for their own countries in the next few days. King Mark had lost a hand in battle but showed no signs of weakness from it, and Arthur knew he would continue to be a strong and competent leader for many more years to come. Kent's army had already left with Horsa's body to prepare funeral rights and Arthur knew he would soon attend the coronation of their new king. Most of Arthur's men were in town, celebrating with the common people and allied soldiers, as well as those magic users that had come to help with Morgana and Mordred. Merlin, Caerleon and Annis, Gwen, Morgana, Lancelot, Gaius, and Geoffrey were in the throne room with him, seeing to this one last detail before they started the celebrations themselves.

Arthur let out a heavy breath when the doors shut behind the queen. Merlin stepped over and placed a hand on his shoulder, sending him a smile when Arthur met his eyes that also had the corners of Arthur's lips lifting.

"If that is everything, milord," Geoffrey said with a bow.

"It is." Arthur turned to his gathered friends. "Thank you all for everything you've done. Now go and enjoy the festivities, or go and enjoy a proper sleep."

Annis smiled. "We can sleep when we're dead. I feel like having a dance and a drink." Then she took her husband's hand and led him from the room.

Gaius bowed to him. "I have a few more duties of my own to see to, my lord. But then I think I'll enjoy a proper sleep."

"If you need any help, Gaius, feel free to ask," Arthur said. "There are plenty of healers in town to assist you."

"I will," the old man assured him before leaving.

Gwen gave a curtsy and Lancelot a bow before they took each other's hands, still tentatively, and exited as well.

Morgana let out a quiet breath. "Now that you can breathe, how do you feel?"

Arthur rolled his shoulder and winced. "It will be many days before I can train properly again, but I'll survive."

"I'm sure Merlin or Luke can prepare a poultice or potion for you to speed up your healing," she said.

"Not Luke," Arthur said. "He was very helpful in battle, but I don't want him to accidentally poison me trying to heal my wounds." He still remembered the fire incident when they were after the phoenix.

Merlin snorted. "I'll be sure to let him know of your unending confidence."

Arthur leaned into his touch but said nothing. The smile Morgana sent them was soft. She curtsied. "Well then, I have my own things to see to, my own people to care for. I'll see you both later."

Once they were alone, Arthur deflated in the throne. "I think I'd like that drink myself."

Merlin took a seat on the arm of the throne. "I want to celebrate, because we won and the unification of Albion is so much closer now than it ever has been before, but...It feels wrong to celebrate when we lost so many."

The funeral ceremony yesterday had included the largest bonfire ever seen in Camelot, to send off all those lost in battle. Bors, beheaded by Claudus. Maleagant, an arrow to the heart. Breunor, a sorcerer's fire. And so many others that Arthur did not know the names of from every country. Lionel had wept openly for his brother while King Bagdemagus shed only a single tear at the loss of his son. Every knight mourned Breunor, but they knew he had never truly recovered from the loss of Gaheris and knew he was happy to be reunited with his brother-in-arms.

It could have been so much worse. Arthur knew that. Merlin knew that. It didn't make the losses any less sad.

"The knights are celebrating the lives of their friends," Arthur said at length. "I think we can have a drink in their memory too."

With a smile, Merlin stood up. "I suppose you're right, for once."

Arthur just snorted and didn't bother with a reply, standing from his throne. He grimaced. He'd been right about being covered in bruises, and he felt the ache of every one of them whenever he stood or walked or moved. The bandages on his neck, arm, and back also caused him discomfort but he knew they were necessary and didn't complain.

"I feel like a walking wound," Arthur whined. "It's unfair that you look like you just had a nice bath while I ache like this."

When Merlin didn't make a quip back at him, Arthur turned to face his sorcerer. Merlin was staring at the hard stone of the floor and his shoulders seemed to tense as Arthur watched him.

"Arthur," Merlin began, "about that."

He paused.

"Merlin?"

"Arthur," Merlin started again, lifting his eyes. His expression was serious when he said, "I can't die."

Arthur blinked once, twice. "What do you mean you can't die? I know I told you not to do rash things because you might die, and I admit I'd be rather lost without you," he blushed at the admission, "but-"

"No. No, Arthur," Merlin interrupted with a shake of his head. "I mean...I mean I literally can't die. Stab me with a sword or hit me with magic, I'll just get back up."

He wasn't joking. Merlin held Arthur's gaze through every word and there was no hesitation in his voice. He really believed what he was saying.

Arthur shook his head slowly. "But I watched you die."

Merlin ran a hand through his hair and let out a rough breath. "That's just it. That's when it happened. I died then. I did. When the phoenix brought me back, it...I don't know...It made me stronger. And since then I've realized that nothing hurts-Well it hurts, I still bleed, but I heal from anything. That spell Mordred hit me with, that I killed all those sorcerers with, it should've killed me too, but it didn't. And Catigern, he killed me. He did. His sword went straight through me-"

Arthur put a hand to his own stomach as a shot of pain went through him, as if he'd been the one to be stabbed. Merlin died in that battle?

"But I got right back up," Merlin finished. "And the barghest...," his voice got quiet and his gaze drifted to the floor again. "When the barghest came for your father and all of the guards were put to sleep...it called me...it called me 'the young immortal,' Arthur. I'm immortal."

So Merlin wasn't only a sorcerer, and a dragonlord, but an immortal being? The idea should have frightened Arthur more. He'd never encountered anything like what Merlin was saying. All of the legends surrounding Merlin, all of the creatures of magic that knew who he was and were afraid of him...Maybe he was too tired from worry and strife, but at the moment Arthur wasn't scared at all.

He took the few steps between him and Merlin and put his hand under Merlin's chin. Lifting it up, he said, "According to that legend you told me, I'm the Once and Future King. I'll die, and then someday come back from the beyond to rule again when my kingdom most needs me. Am I remembering this right?"

Merlin nodded as best he could with Arthur's hand in the way.

"Then perhaps that's why you've become immortal," he reasoned. "I'll need my prophesized sorcerer, no matter what year I reign in. And you're so clumsy that it took the magic of a _phoenix_ to ensure you'd be there when I needed you."

Merlin laughed. "You have a weird way of being an optimist."

Arthur shrugged. "I get by with it. You, on the other hand, have bad timing when it comes to revealing important information." He shook his head and dropped his hand. "Really, Merlin. Right before a party? Even you could have planned better."

"I didn't really plan at all," Merlin admitted. "I never have. I just...do."

Now it was Arthur's turn to laugh. "I should have guessed."

The doors to the throne room opened and Luke poked his head in. "Merlin, er, my lord," he greeted - in the wrong order, but this was Merlin's apprentice after all. "If you could follow me?"

Merlin brightened instantly. "That's right, I forgot. Come along, Arthur."

He grabbed the king's hand, something they'd never done in public before, and pulled him gently from the room, mindful of his aches and pains.

"Well you perked up quickly," Arthur noted as they walked.

They reached the council room, the same one Merlin had once admitted to being a sorcerer in and the same one where Arthur regularly met with his own knights and advisors, then stopped. Luke and Merlin were practically vibrating in excitement. They waited for Arthur to enter first, then followed.

It was certainly a sight to behold. Arthur remembered the room feeling cramped despite its many windows, the pillars creeping in on him. Now, the room was wide and open. There was a round table in the center of the expanded room, with enough seats to easily fit a hundred men if he so desired. The ceiling was high and light shone in from a large window, glinting off the numerous tiny crystal shards inlaid in the stone table.

"This...How is this possible?" Arthur gasped out. The room was much too large to fit inside the castle!

All around the room stood magic users, Morgana and Mordred among them. Morgana stepped forward.

"We've been working at it since we returned to Camelot," she explained. "It's taken quite a lot of magic to manage, so you'd better be grateful."

"It's to celebrate your victory," Merlin continued, moving to stand by the table with the others. "A gift, from magic users to their king, with hope for the bright and free kingdom you will build."

"A table for your most trusted knights," Luke broke in.

"A table for equals," Morgana concluded. "The kings of old used to use tables made in this fashion. There is no head and thus all who sit here may speak as equals no matter where they come from or their station."

Already Arthur could picture his knights seated around the table. Merlin would sit to Arthur's right, always to his right. Lancelot, Gwaine, Tristan, Bagdemagus, Luned, Gareth, Kay, Bedivere, Pelleas, Geraint, Pellinore, Dinadan, Lamorak, Griflet, Urien, Lionel, Tor, Lucan, and a dozen others would sit here. There would be a seat for Morgana, and one day maybe Luke and other magic users, King Mark, King Caerleon, and Queen Annis. Once the treaties were in place, rulers from Nemeth, Meredor, and Mora as well. It would be a grand gathering.

It would be where Albion was formed.

"Now, Arthur, don't cry," Morgana teased, though it were her eyes that looked misty.

Arthur didn't fight the warm feeling growing in his chest. He beamed at everyone gathered. "No. No tears. Now isn't a time for crying. It's a time for new beginnings, and you've all helped me with that. I cannot thank you enough."

"We were happy to do it," Mordred said, voice quiet but strong, from the side of the group gathered.

Morgana gave a slight shrug. "Consider it an apology as much as a thank you." She grinned. "Now you've got a kingdom to unite. Get to work," she ordered lightly.

Arthur laughed, loud and long. "Oh let me have a bath, a drink, and a good sleep first. Albion can be built in the morning."

All the magic users in the room gave little smiles to themselves at Arthur's good mood. It gave them hope and let them know they'd chosen right in helping him win that battle.

"You're the king, Arthur," Merlin quipped, teasing, "You make the rules."

Arthur shook his head but kept his smile. "Not alone. Never alone." He felt lighter than he could ever remember being. "Now where are my trusted knights to sit with me? I want to celebrate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Olde = New
> 
> Sceaotan = throw
> 
> Ábregdan = raise/lift up
> 
> Scéotan = shoot/fire
> 
> Nerung = guard
> 
> Cléofan = split
> 
> ætniman ǽðm = deprive air
> 
> Pyrtan = strike
> 
> ...
> 
> I hope you all had fun reading this second installment to The Sword and the Stone series. I'm sorry it took so long for me to finally sit down and finish writing this, get it edited, and post it. Thank you to everyone who has followed both or either of these stories, especially those of you who took the time to leave your thoughts. I hope to see you on later fics!
> 
> And a thank you to my three wonderful betas - DLanaDHZ, PeanutMeg, and LunarFlare14. You made my story better and increased my confidence with every chapter you edited for me.
> 
> Again, as last time, if there are any burning desires for a specific scene you'd like to see, mention it in a review and we'll see if it gets written as a 'deleted scene.'
> 
> Lastly, I do plan to write a short sequel to this. It'll be a 3 chapter/episode 'special event' called "The Witching Cycle" – a way to make this a DU starting at episode 3x09 that ends 31 adventures later with 'episode' 5x13, just like the show did. The Witching Cycle will take precedence over the deleted scenes, but they'll all get written in time, I promise.

**Author's Note:**

> All translations come from online Old English translators/dictionaries:  
> www.oldenglishtranslator.co.uk/  
> home.comcast.net/~modean52/oeme_dictionaries.htm  
> http://www.wordgumbo.com/ie/ger/oen/eroeneng.htm  
> http://www.mun.ca/Ansaxdat/vocab/wordlist.html#e (though this one has died since I finished writing, apparently)  
> and one that I used frequently but can no longer find the URL for, oops.
> 
> I must apologize in case anyone who reads these knows old English. I know nothing of old English and all I did was pick words that matched what I needed. I don't know anything about proper sentence structure or grammar or anything.


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